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YOLANDA 

MAID   OF   BURGUNDY 


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YOLANDA 

MAID  OF  BURGUNDY 

By      CHARLES      MAJOR 

AUTHOR      OF      WHEN      KNIGHTHOOD      WAS      IN      FLOWER 
DOROTHY      VERNON      OF      HADDON      HALL      ETC.      *      * 


WITH     ILLUSTRATIONS     BY 
CHARLOTTE    WEBER    DITZLER 


THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 
NEW  TORK         MCM7 

LONDON:    MACMILLAN    &    CO.,    LTD. 


COPYRIGHT,  1906, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  October,  1905.    Reprinted 
November,  1905. 


NortoooU 

J.  8.  Cu»hlng  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO  MY  WIFE 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

PA6B 

A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CRAGS .        1 

CHAPTER  II 
KNIGHTS-ERRANT .      22 

CHAPTER  IH 

YOLANDA   THE   SORCERESS 44 

CHAPTER  IV 
DOWN  THE  RHINE  TO  BURGUNDY 68 

CHAPTER  V 
WHO  is  YOLANDA? 90 

CHAPTER  VI 
DUKE  CHARLES  THE  RASH 109 

CHAPTER  VII 
A  RACE  WITH  THE  DUKE 123 

CHAPTER  VIII 
ON  THE  MOAT  BRIDGE       ........    147 

CHAPTER  IX 
THE  GREAT  RIDDLE  166 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  X 

PAGE 

THE  HOUSE  UNDER  THE  WALL 179 

CHAPTER  XI 
PERONNE  LA  PUCELLE 195 

CHAPTER  XII 
A  LIVE  WREN  PIE      .        . 224 

CHAPTER  XIII 
A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR 250 

CHAPTER  XIV 
SIR  KARL  MEETS  THE  PRINCESS 272 

CHAPTER  XV 
THE  CROSSING  OF  A  «T" 288 

CHAPTER  XVI 
PARTICEPS  CRIMINIS 307 

CHAPTER  XVII 
TRIAL  BY  COMBAT 324 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

YOLANDA   OR   THE   PRINCESS? 349 

CHAPTER  XIX 
MAX  GOES  TO  WAR 382 

CHAPTER  XX 
A  TREATY  WITH  Louis  XI        .  .    397 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


MAX   AND   YOLANDA 


KARL  AND  MAX  AT  HAPSBUKG  CASTLE   . 
MAX      ...       

THE  DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY 

MAX  AT  THE  GATE  OF  THE  LISTS 


Frontispiece 

PAOE 

Facing  20 

"  250 

"  282 

«  336 


YOLANDA 

CHAPTER  I 

A    CASTLE    AMONG   THE    CEAGS 

LIKE  the  Israelites  of  old,  mankind  is  prone  to 
worship  false  gods,  and  persistently  sets  up  the 
brazen  image  of  a  sham  hero,  as  its  idol.  I  should 
like  to  write  the  history  of  the  world,  if  for  no  other  rea 
son  than  to  assist  several  well-established  heroes  down 
from  their  pedestals.  Great  Charlemagne  might  come 
to  earth's  level,  his  patriarchal,  flowing  beard  might 
drop  from  his  face,  and  we  might  see  him  as  he  really 
was — a  plucked  and  toothless  old  savage,  with  no  more 
Christianity  than  Jacob,  and  with  all  of  Jacob's  greed. 
Richard  of  England,  styled  by  hero-worshippers  "  The 
Lion-hearted,"  might  be  re-christened  "  The  Wolf- 
hearted,"  and  the  famous  Du  Guesclin  might  seem  to 
us  a  half-brutish  vagabond.  But  Charles  of  Burgundy, 
dubbed  by  this  prone  world  "  The  Bold  "  and  "  The 
Rash,"  would  take  the  greatest  fall.  Of  him  and  his 
fair  daughter  I  shall  speak  in  this  history. 

At  the   time  of  which  I  write  Louis  XI  reigned 
over  France,  Edward  IV  ruled   in  England,  and   his 

B  1 


2  YOLANDA 

sister,  the  beautiful  Margaret  of  York,  was  the 
unhappy  wife  of  this  Charles  the  Rash,  and  step 
mother  to  his  gentle  daughter  Mary.  Charles,  though 
only  a  duke  in  name,  reigned  as  a  most  potent  and 
despotic  king  over  the  fair  rich  land  of  Burgundy. 
Frederick  of  Styria  was  head  of  the  great  house  of 
Hapsburg,  and  Count  Maximilian,  my  young  friend 
and  pupil,  was  his  heir. 

Of  the  other  rulers  of  Europe  I  need  not  speak, 
since  they  will  not  enter  this  narrative.  They  were 
all  bad  enough,  —  and  may  God  have  mercy  on  their 
souls. 

Most  of  the  really  tragic  parts  in  the  great  drama  of 
history  have  been  played  by  women.  This  truth  I  had 
always  dimly  known,  yet  one  does  not  really  know  a 
fact  until  he  feels  it.  I  did  not  realize  the  extent  to 
which  these  poor  women  of  history  have  suffered  in 
the  matter  of  enforced  marriages,  until  the  truth  was 
brought  home  to  me  in  the  person  of  Mary,  Princess 
of  Burgundy,  to  whose  castle,  Peronne  La  Pucelle,  my 
pupil,  Maximilian  of  Hapsburg,  and  I  made  a  journey 
in  the  year  1476. 

My  knowledge  of  this  fair  lady  began  in  far-off 
Styria,  and  there  I  shall  begin  my  story. 

In  times  of  peace,  life  in  Hapsburg  Castle  was  dull ; 
in  times  of  war  it  was  doleful.  War  is  always  griev- 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CRAGS  3 

ous,  but  my  good  mistress,  the  Duchess  of  Styria, 
was  ever  in  such  painful  dread  lest  evil  should  befall 
her  only  child,  Maximilian,  that  the  pains  of  war-time 
were  rendered  doubly  keen  to  those  who  loved  Her 
Grace. 

After  Maximilian  had  reached  the  fighting  age 
there  wTas  too  little  war  to  suit  him.  Up  to  his 
eighteenth  year  he  had  thrice  gone  out  to  war,  and 
these  expeditions  were  heart-breaking  trials  for  his 
mother.  Although  tied  to  his  mother's  apron  strings 
by  bonds  of  mutual  love,  he  burned  with  the  fire 
and  ambition  of  youth ;  while  I,  reaching  well  toward 
my  threescore  years,  had  almost  outlived  the  lust  for 
strife.  Max  longed  to  spread  his  wings,  but  the  con 
ditions  of  his  birth  held  him  chained  to  the  rocks  of 
Styria,  on  the  pinnacle  of  his  family's  empty  greatness. 

Perched  among  the  mountain  crags,  our  castle  was 
almost  impregnable ;  but  that  was  its  only  virtue  as  a 
dwelling-place.  Bare  walls,  stone  floors,  sour  wine, 
coarse  boar's  meat,  brown  bread,  and  poor  beds  con 
stituted  our  meagre  portion. 

Duke  Frederick  was  poor  because  his  people  were 
poor.  They  lived  among  the  rocks  and  crags,  raised 
their  goats,  ploughed  their  tiny  patches  of  thin  earth, 
and  gave  to  the  duke  and  to  each  man  his  due.  They 
were  simple,  bigoted,  and  honest  to  the  heart's  core. 

Though  of  mean  fortune,  Duke  Frederick  was  the 
head  of  the  great  House  of  Hapsburg,  whose  founders 


4  YOLANDA 

lived  in  the  morning  mists  of  European  history  and 
dwelt  proudly  amid  the  peaks  of  their  mountain 
home.  Our  castle  in  Styria  was  not  the  original 
Castle  Hapsburg.  That  was  built  centuries  before 
the  time  of  this  story,  among  the  hawks'  crags  of 
Aargau  in  Switzerland.  It  was  lost  by  the  House  of 
Hapsburg  many  years  before  Max  was  born.  The 
castle  in  Styria  was  its  namesake. 

To  leaven  the  poor  loaf  of  life  in  Castle  Hapsburg, 
its  inmates  enjoyed  the  companionship  of  the  kindest 
man  and  woman  that  ever  graced  a  high  estate  —  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Styria.  Though  in  their  little 
court,  life  was  rigid  with  the  starch  of  ceremony,  it 
was  softened  by  the  tenderness  of  love.  All  that  Duke 
Frederick  asked  from  his  subjects  was  a  bare  liveli 
hood  and  a  strict  observance  of  ceremonious  conven 
tions.  Those  who  approached  him  and  his  son  did  so 
with  uncovered  head  and  bended  knee.  An  act  of  per 
sonal  familiarity  would  have  been  looked  on  as  high 
treason.  Taxes  might  remain  unpaid,  laws  might  be 
broken,  and  there  was  mercy  in  the  ducal  heart ;  but 
a  flaw  in  ceremony  was  unpardonable. 

The  boar's  meat  and  the  brown  bread  were  eaten 
in  state ;  the  sour  wine  was  drunk  solemnly ;  and  going 
to  bed  each  night  was  an  act  of  national  importance. 
Such  had  been  the  life  of  this  house  for  generations, 
and  good  Duke  Frederick  neither  would  nor  could 
break  away  from  it. 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CRAGS  5 

Of  all  these  painful  conditions  young  Max  was  a 
suffering  victim.  Did  he  sally  forth  to  stick  a  wild 
boar  or  to  kill  a  bear,  the  Master  of  the  Hunt  rode  be 
side  him  in  a  gaudy,  faded  uniform.  Fore-riders  pre 
ceded  him,  and  after-riders  followed.  He  was  almost 
compelled  to  hunt  by  proxy,  and  he  considered  him 
self  lucky  to  be  in  at  the  death.  The  bear,  of  course, 
was  officially  killed  by  Maximilian,  Count  of  Hapsburg, 
no  matter  what  hand  dealt  the  blow.  Maximilian,  be 
ing  the  heir  of  Hapsburg,  must  always  move  with  a 
slow  dignity  becoming  his  exalted  station.  He  must, 
if  possible,  always  act  through  an  officer ;  I  verily  be 
lieve  that  Duke  Frederick,  his  father,  regretted  the 
humiliating  necessity  of  eating  his  own  dinner. 

Poor  Max  did  not  really  live ;  he  was  an 
automaton. 

Once  every  year  Duke  Frederick  gave  a  tourna 
ment,  the  cost  of  which,  in  entertainments  and 
prizes,  consumed  fully  two-thirds  of  his  annual 
income.  On  these  occasions  punctilious  ceremony 
took  the  place  of  rich  wine,  and  a  stiff,  kindly 
welcome  did  service  as  a  feast.  These  tournaments 
were  rare  events  for  Max ;  they  gave  him  a  day  of 
partial  rest  from  his  strait-jacket  life  at  the  little 
court  among  the  crags. 

I  shall  give  you  here  ten  lines  concerning  myself. 
I  am  Italian  by  birth  —  a  younger  son  of  the  noble 
House  of  Pitti.  I  left  home  when  but  little  more 


6  YOLANDA 

than  a  boy.  Journeying  to  the  East,  I  became  Sir 
Karl  de  Pitti,  Knight  of  the  Holy  Order  of  St.  John, 
and  in  consequence  I  am  half  priest,  half  soldier.  My 
order  and  my  type  are  rapidly  passing  away.  I 
fought  and  prayed  in  many  lands  during  twenty  years. 
To  be  frank,  I  fought  a  great  deal  more  than  I  prayed. 
Six  years  out  of  the  twenty  I  spent  in  Burgundy, 
fighting  under  the  banner  of  Duke  Philip  the  Good, 
father  to  Charles  the  Rash.  My  mother  was  a  Bur- 
gundian  —  a  Walloon  —  and  to  her  love  for  things 
German  I  owe  my  name,  Karl.  During  my  service 
under  Duke  Philip  I  met  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt, 
and  won  that  most  valuable  of  all  prizes,  a  trusted 
friend. 

Fifteen  years  before  the  opening  of  this  story  I 
grew  tired  of  fighting.  How  I  drifted,  a  sort  of 
human  flotsam,  against  the  crags  of  Styria  would 
be  a  long,  uninteresting  story.  By  a  curious  combina 
tion  of  events  I  assumed  the  duties  of  tutor  to  the 
small  count,  Maximilian  of  Hapsburg,  then  a  flaxen- 
haired  little  beauty  of  three  summers.  I  taught  him 
all  that  was  needful  from  books,  and  grounded  him 
fairly  well  in  church  lore,  but  gave  my  best  efforts  to 
his  education  in  arms. 

Aside  from  my  duties  as  instructor  to  the  young 
count,  I  was  useful  in  many  ways  about  the  castle. 
By  reason  of  the  half  of  me  that  was  priestly,  I  could, 
upon  occasion,  hear  confession,  administer  the  holy  sac- 


A  CASTLE   AMONG   THE   CRAGS  7 

rament,  and  shrive  a  sinner  as  effectively  as  the  laziest 
priest  in  Christendom.  I  could  also  set  a  broken  bone, 
and  could  mix  as  bitter  a  draught  as  any  Jew  out 
of  Judea.  So,  you  will  see,  I  was  a  useful  member 
of  a  household  wherein  ancestry  took  the  place  of 
wealth,  and  pride  was  made  to  stand  for  ready  cash. 

The  good  duke  might  have  filled  his  coffers  by 
pillaging  travellers,  as  many  of  his  neighbors  did  ;  but 
he  scorned  to  thrive  by  robbery,  and  lived  in  gran 
diose  but  honest  penury. 

Max  took  readily  to  the  use  of  arms,  and  by  the 
time  he  was  eighteen,  which  was  three  years  before  our 
now  famous  journey  to  Burgundy,  a  strong,  time-hard 
ened  man  might  well  beware  of  him.  When  the  boy 
was  fourteen  or  fifteen,  I  began  to  see  in  him  great  pos 
sibilities.  In  personal  beauty  and  strength  he  was 
beyond  compare.  His  eyes  were  as  blue  as  an  Italian 
sky,  and  his  hair  fell  in  a  mass  of  tawny  curls  to  his 
shoulders.  His  mother  likened  him  to  a  young  lion. 
Mentally  he  was  slow,  but  his  judgment  was  clear 
and  accurate.  Above  all,  he  was  honest,  and  knew 
not  fear  of  man,  beast,  or  devil.  His  life  in  Styria, 
hedged  about  by  ceremonious  conventions,  had  given 
him  an  undue  portion  of  dignity  and  reticence,  but 
that  could  easily  be  polished  down  by  friction  with 
the  rougher  side  of  the  world.  Except  myself  and 
his  mother,  he  had  never  known  a  real  friend. 

To  Max  the  people  of  the  world  were  of  two  con- 


8  YOLANDA 

ditions  :  a  very  small  class  to  whom  he  must  kneel, 
and  a  very  large  number  who  must  kneel  to  him. 
Even  his  mother  addressed  him  publicly  as  "My 
Lord  Count."  On  rare  occasions,  in  the  deep 
privacy  of  her  closet,  mother-love  would  get  the 
better  of  her  and  break  through  the  crust  of  cere 
mony.  Then  she  indulged  herself  and  him  in  the 
ravishing,  though  doubtful,  luxury  of  calling  him 
"  Little  Max."  No  one  but  I,  and  perhaps  at  rare 
intervals  Duke  Frederick,  ever  witnessed  this  lapse 
from  dignity  on  the  part  of  Her  Grace,  and  we,  of 
course,  would  not  expose  her  weakness  to  the 
world. 

This  love-name  clung  to  Max,  and  "Little  Max," 
though  somewhat  incongruous,  was  pretty  when 
applied  to  a  strapping  fellow  six  feet  two  and  large 
of  limb  in  proportion. 

When  the  boy  approached  manhood,  I  grew 
troubled  lest  this  strait-jacket  existence  in  Styria 
should  dwarf  him  mentally  and  morally.  So  I  began 
to  stir  cautiously  in  the  matter  of  sending  him  abroad 
into  the  world.  My  first  advances  met  with  a  rebuff. 

"  It  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  said  the  duke. 

"  Send  the  count  out  to  the  rude  world  to  asso 
ciate  with  underlings  ?  Never  !  "  cried  the  duchess, 
horrified  and  alarmed. 

I  had  expected  this,  and  I  was  not  daunted.  I 
renewed  the  attack  from  different  points,  and  after 


A  CASTLE   AMONG  THE   CRAGS  9 

many  onslaughts,  I  captured  the  bailey  of  the  parental 
fortresses ;  that  is,  I  compelled  them  to  listen  to  me. 
My  chief  point  of  attack  was  Max  himself.  He 
listened  readily  enough,  but  he  could  not  see  how  the 
thing  was  to  be  done.  When  I  spoke  of  the  luxuries 
of  Italy  and  Burgundy,  and  told  him  of  deeds  of 
prowess  performed  daily  throughout  the  world  by 
men  vastly  his  inferior,  his  eyes  brightened  and  his 
cheek  flushed.  When  I  talked  of  wealth  to  be  won 
and  glory  to  be  achieved  in  those  rich  lands,  and 
hinted  at  the  barren  poverty  of  Styria,  he  would  sigh 
and  answer :  — 

"  Ah,  Karl,  it  sounds  glorious,  but  I  was  born  to 
this  life,  and  father  and  mother  would  not  forgive 
me  if  I  should  seek  another  destiny.  Fate  has  fixed 
my  lot,  and  I  must  endure  it." 

I  did  not  cease  my  lay ;  and  especially  was  the  fat 
land  of  Burgundy  my  theme,  for  I  knew  it  well. 
Max  would  listen  in  enraptured  silence.  When  he 
was  eighteen,  I  wrote,  with  deep-seated  purpose, 
several  letters  to  my  friend  Lord  d'Hymbercourt, 
who  was  at  the  time  one  of  the  councillors  of 
Charles  the  Rash,  Duke  of  Burgundy.  In  those 
letters  I  dwelt  at  length  on  the  virtues,  strength,  and 
manly  beauty  of  my  pupil. 

I  knew  that  Charles  often  negotiated  with  other 
states  the  marriage  of  his  only  child  and  heiress, 
Princess  Mary.  This  form  of  treaty  appeared  to  be 


10  YOLANDA 

almost  a  mania  with  the  rash  Burgundian.  I  also 
knew  that  in  no  instance  had  he  erer  intended  to 
fulfil  the  treaty.  His  purpose  in  each  case  was 
probably  to  create  a  temporary  alliance  with  that 
one  state  while  he  was  in  trouble  with  another.  His 
daughter  would  inherit  a  domain  richer  than  that  of 
any  king  in  Europe,  and  the  duke  certainly  would  be 
contented  with  nothing  less  than  the  hand  of  an  heir 
to  a  crown.  Suitors  for  the  fair  Mary  came  from 
every  land.  All  were  entertained ;  but  the  princess 
remained  unbetrothed. 

A  few  broad  hints  in  my  letters  to  Hymbercourt 
produced  the  result  I  so  much  desired.  One  bright 
day  our  castle  was  stirred  to  its  foundation-stones 
by  the  arrival  of  a  messenger  from  Duke  Charles  of 
Burgundy,  bearing  the  following  missive :  — 

"  To  His  Grace,  Duke  Frederick  of  Styria,  Elector 
of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  and  Count  of  Austria ; 
Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  Count  of  Charolois, 
sends  greeting :  — 

"The  said  Duke  Charles  recommends  himself  to 
the  most  puissant  Duke  Frederick,  and  bearing  in 
mind  the  great  antiquity  and  high  nobility  of  the 
illustrious  House  of  Hapsburg,  begs  to  express  his 
desire  to  bind  the  said  noble  House  to  Burgundy  by 
ties  of  marriage. 

"To  that  end,  His  Grace  of  Burgundy,  knowing  by 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CRAGS  11 

fame  the  many  virtues  of  the  young  and  valiant 
Count  of  Hapsburg,  son  to  His  Grace,  Duke  Freder 
ick,  would,  if  it  pleasures  the  said  illustrious  Duke 
Frederick,  suggest  the  appointment  of  commissioners 
by  each  of  the  high  contracting  parties  for  the  purpose 
of  drawing  a  treaty  of  marriage  between  the  noble 
Count  of  Hapsburg  and  our  daughter,  Princess  Mary 
of  Burgundy.  The  said  commissioners  shall  meet 
within  six  months  after  the  date  of  these  presents 
and  shall  formulate  indentures  of  treaty  that  shall 
be  submitted  to  His  Grace  of  Styria  and  His  Grace 
of  Burgundy. 

"  The  lady  of  Burgundy  sends  herewith  a  letter 
and  a  jewel  which  she  hopes  the  noble  Count  of 
Hapsburg  will  accept  as  tokens  of  her  esteem. 

"  May  God  and  the  Blessed  Virgin  keep  His  Grace 
of  Styria  in  their  especial  care." 

Signed  with  a  flourish.  «  CHABLES." 

This  letter  did  not  deceive  me.  I  did  not  think 
for  a  moment  that  Charles  meant  to  give  his  daughter 
to  Max.  But  it  answered  my  purpose  by  bringing 
Max  to  a  realization  of  the  nothingness  of  life  in 
Styria,  and  opening  his  eyes  to  the  glorious  possibili 
ties  that  lay  in  the  great  world  beyond  the  mountain 
peaks. 

Burgundy's  missive  produced  several  effects  in  the 
household  of  Castle  Hapsburg,  though  none  were 


12  YOLANDA 

shown  on  the  surface.  I  was  glad,  but,  of  course, 
I  carefully  concealed  the  reasons  for  my  pleasure 
from  His  Grace.  Duke  Frederick  was  pleased  to  his 
toes  and  got  himself  very  drunk  on  the  strength  of  it. 
Otherwise  he  smothered  his  delight.  He  "  was  not 
sure  "  ;  "  was  not  quite  disposed  to  yield  so  great  a 
favor  to  this  far-away  duke  " ;  "  the  count  is  young ; 
no  need  for  haste,"  and  so  on.  The  duke  had  no 
intention  whatever  of  sending  such  messages  to  Bur 
gundy  ;  he  simply  wished  to  strut  before  his  little 
court.  Charles  most  certainly  would  receive  a  pom 
pous  and  affirmative  answer.  The  poor  duchess,  torn 
by  contending  emotions  of  mother-love  and  family 
pride,  was  flattered  by  Burgundy's  offer ;  but  she 
was  also  grieved. 

"  We  do  not  know  the  lady,"  she  said.  "  Fame 
speaks  well  of  her,  but  the  report  may  be  false. 
She  may  not  be  sufficiently  endued  with  religious 
enthusiasm." 

"  She  will  absorb  that  from  Your  Grace,"  I 
answered. 

Her  Grace  thought  that  she  herself  was  religious 
and  tried  to  impress  that  belief  on  others ;  but  Max 
was  her  god.  In  truth  she  was  jealous  of  any  woman 
who  looked  on  him  twice,  and  she  kept  at  the  castle 
only  the  old  and  harmless  of  the  dangerous  sex.  She 
would  have  refused  Burgundy's  offer  quickly  enough 
if  her  heart  had  been  permitted  to  reply. 


13 

The  effect  of  the  letter  on  Max  was  tremendous. 
He  realized  its  political  importance,  knowing  full 
well  that  if  he  could  add  the  rich  domain  of  Bur 
gundy  to  the  Hapsburg  prestige,  he  might  easily 
achieve  the  imperial  throne.  But  that  was  his  lesser 
motive.  Hymbercourt's  letters  to  me  had  extolled 
Mary's  beauty  and  gentleness.  Every  page  had  sung 
her  praises.  These  letters  I  had  given  to  Max,  and 
there  had  sprung  up  in  his  untouched  heart  a  chivalric 
admiration  for  the  lady  of  Burgundy.  He  loved  an 
ideal.  I  suppose  most  men  and  every  woman  will 
understand  his  condition.  It  was  truly  an  ardent 
love. 

Max  kept  Hymbercourt's  letters,  and  would  hide 
himself  on  the  battlements  by  the  hour  reading  them, 
dreaming  the  dreams  of  youth  and  worshipping  at  the 
feet  of  his  ideal,  —  fair  Mary  of  Burgundy,  his  un 
known  lady-love. 

Before  the  arrival  of  the  messenger  from  Duke 
Charles,  Max  spoke  little  of  the  Burgundian  princess ; 
but  the  message  gave  her  a  touch  of  reality,  and  he 
began  to  open  his  heart  to  me  —  his  only  confidant. 

There  seemed  to  have  been  a  reciprocal  idealization 
going  on  in  the  far-off  land  of  Burgundy.  My  letters 
to  Hymbercourt,  in  which  you  may  be  sure  Max's 
strength  and  virtues  lost  nothing,  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Madame  d'Hymbercourt,  and  thus  came  under  the 
eyes  of  Princess  Mary.  That  fair  little  lady  also 


14  YOLANDA 

built  in  her  heart  an  altar  to  an  unknown  god,  if 
hints  in  Hymbercourt's  letters  were  to  be  trusted. 
Her  maidenly  emotions  were  probably  far  more 
passive  than  Max's,  though  I  have  been  told  that  a 
woman's  heart  will  go  to  great  lengths  for  the  sake 
of  an  ideal.  Many  a  man,  doubtless,  would  fall  short 
in  the  estimation  of  his  lady-love  were  it  not  for  those 
qualities  with  which  she  herself  endows  him. 

Whatever  the  lady's  sentiments  may  have  been, 
my  faith  in  Hymbercourt's  hints  concerning  them 
were  strengthened  by  Mary's  kindly  letter  and  the 
diamond  ring  for  Max  which  came  with  her  father's 
message  to  Styria.  They  were  palpable  facts,  and 
young  Max  built  an  altar  in  his  holy  of  holies,  and 
laid  them  tenderly  upon  it. 

Duke  Frederick,  with  my  help,  composed  a  letter 
in  reply  to  Burgundy's  message.  It  required  many 
days  of  work  to  bring  it  to  a  form  sufficient  in 
dignity,  yet  ample  in  assent.  The  missive  must 
answer  "  yes  "  so  emphatically  as  to  leave  no  room  for 
doubt  in  Burgundy's  mind,  yet  it  must  show  no  eager 
ness  on  the  part  of  Styria.  (Duke  Frederick  always 
spoke  of  himself  as  Styria.)  Burgundy  must  be 
made  to  appreciate  the  honor  of  this  alliance;  still,  the 
fact  must  not  be  offensively  thrust  upon  him. 

The  letter  was  sent,  and  Charles  of  Burgundy 
probably  laughed  at  it.  Duke  Frederick  appointed 
commissioners  and  fixed  Cannstadt  as  the  place  of 


A   CASTLE   AMONG  THE   CRAGS  15 

meeting.  Whatever  Duke  Charles's  reasons  for  mak 
ing  the  offer  of  marriage  may  have  been,  they  probably 
ceased  to  exist  soon  afterward,  for  he  never  even  re 
plied  to  Duke  Frederick's  acceptance.  For  months 
Castle  Hapsburg  was  in  a  ferment  of  expectancy.  A 
watch  stood  from  dawn  till  dusk  on  the  battlements 
of  the  keep,  that  the  duke  might  be  informed  of  the 
approach  of  the  Burgundian  messenger  —  that  never 
came.  After  a  year  of  futile  waiting  the  watch  was 
abandoned.  Anger,  for  a  time,  took  the  place  of  ex 
pectancy  ;  Duke  Frederick  each  day  drowned  his  ill- 
humor  in  a  gallon  of  sour  wine,  and  remained  silent 
on  the  subject  of  the  Burgundian  insult. 

Max's  attitude  was  that  of  a  dignified  man.  He 
showed  neither  anger  nor  disappointment,  but  he 
kept  the  letter  and  the  ring  that  Mary  had  sent  him 
and  mused  upon  his  love  for  his  ideal  —  the  lady  he 
had  never  seen. 

A  letter  from  Hymbercourt,  that  reached  me  nearly 
two  years  after  this  affair,  spoke  of  a  tender  little 
maiden  in  Burgundy,  whose  heart  throbbed  with 
disappointment  while  it  also  clung  to  its  ideal,  as 
tender  natures  are  apt  to  do.  This  hint  in  Hymber- 
court's  letter  sank  to  the  tenderest  spot  in  Max's  heart. 

On  Max's  twenty-first  birthday  he  was  knighted 
by  the  emperor.  A  grand  tournament,  lasting  five 
days,  celebrated  the  event,  and  Max  proved  himself 
a  man  among  men  and  a  knight  worthy  of  his  spurs. 


16  YOLANDA 

I  had  trained  him  for  months  in  preparation  for 
this,  his  first  great  trial  of  strength  and  skill.  He 
was  not  lacking  in  either,  though  they  would  mature 
only  with  his  judgment.  His  strength  was  beyond 
compare.  A  man  could  hardly  span  his  great  arm 
with  both  hands. 

Soon  after  Max  was  knighted,  I  brought  up  the 
subject  of  his  journey  into  the  world.  I  was  again 
met  by  parental  opposition ;  but  Max  was  of  age 
and  his  views  had  weight.  If  I  could  bring  him  to 
see  the  truth,  the  cause  would  be  won.  Unfortu 
nately,  it  was  not  his  desires  I  must  overcome  ;  it  was 
his  scruples.  His  head  and  his  heart  were  full  of  false 
ideas  and  distorted  motives  absorbed  from  environ 
ment,  inculcated  by  parental  teaching,  and  inherited 
from  twenty  generations  of  fantastic  forefathers.  In 
born  motives  in  a  conscientious  person  are  stubborn 
tryants,  and  Max  was  their  slave.  The  time  came 
when  his  false  but  honest  standards  cost  him  dearly, 
as  you  shall  learn.  But  in  Max's  heart  there  lived 
another  motive  stronger  than  the  will  of  man ;  it 
was  love.  Upon  that  string  I  chose  to  play. 

One  day  while  we  were  sunning  ourselves  on  the 
battlements,  I  touched,  as  if  by  chance,  on  the  theme 
dear  to  his  heart  —  Mary,  of  Burgundy.  After  a  little 
time  Max  asked  hesitatingly  :  — 

"Have  you  written  of  late  to  my  Lord  d'Hym- 
bercourt  ?  " 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE   CRAGS  17 

"  No,"  I  answered. 

A  long  pause  followed  ;  then  Max  continued  :  "  I 
hope  you  will  soon  do  so.  He  might  write  of  — 
of — "  He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  I  allowed 
him  to  remain  in  thought  while  I  formulated  my 
reply.  After  a  time  I  said  :  — 

"  If  you  are  still  interested  in  the  lady,  why  don't 
you  go  to  Burgundy  and  try  to  win  her  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  impossible,"  he  answered. 

"  No,  no,  Max,"  I  returned,  "  not  impossible  — 
difficult,  perhaps,  but  certainly  not  impossible." 

"  Ah,  Karl,  you  but  raise  false  hopes,"  he  responded 
dolefully. 

"You  could  at  least  see  her,"  I  returned,  ignoring 
his  protest,  "and  that,  I  have  been  told,  is  much 
comfort  to  a  lover  !  " 

"  Indeed,  it  would  be,"  said  Max,  frankly  admit 
ting  the  state  of  his  heart. 

"  Or  it  might  be  that  if  you  saw  her,  the  illusion 
would  be  dispelled." 

"  I  have  little  fear  of  that,"  he  returned. 

"  It  is  true,"  I  continued,  "  her  father's  domains 
are  the  richest  on  earth.  He  is  proud  and  powerful, 
noble  and  arrogant;  but  you  are  just  as  proud  and 
just  as  noble  as  he.  You  are  penniless,  and  your 
estate  will  be  of  little  value ;  your  father  is  poor,  and 
his  mountain  crags  are  a  burden  rather  than  a  profit ; 
but  all  Europe  boasts  no  nobler  blood  than  that 


18  YOLANDA 

of  your  house.  Lift  it  from  its  penury.  You 
are  worthy  of  this  lady,  were  her  estates  multi 
plied  tenfold.  Win  the  estates,  Max,  and  win  the 
lady.  Many  a  man  with  half  your  capacity  has 
climbed  to  the  pinnacle  of  fame  and  fortune,  though 
starting  with  none  of  your  prestige.  Why  do  you, 
born  a  mountain  lion,  stay  mewed  up  in  this  castle 
like  a  purring  cat  in  your  mother's  lap  ?  For  shame, 
Max,  to  waste  your  life  when  love,  fortune,  and  fame 
beckon  you  beyond  these  dreary  hills  and  call  to  you 
in  tones  that  should  arouse  ambition  in  the  dullest 
breast." 

« Duke  Charles  has  already  insulted  us,"  he  re 
plied. 

"  But  his  daughter  has  not,"  I  answered  quickly. 

"That  is  true,"  returned  Max,  with  a  sigh,  "but 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  would  turn  me  from  his 
gates." 

"  Perhaps  he  would,"  I  replied,  « if  you  should 
knock  and  demand  surrender  to  Maximilian,  Count 
of  Hapsburg.  Take  another  name ;  be  for  a  time 
a  soldier  of  fortune.  Bury  the  Count  of  Hapsburg 
for  a  year  or  two  ;  be  plain  Sir  Max  Anybody.  You 
will,  at  least,  see  the  world  and  learn  what  life  really 
is.  Here  is  naught  but  dry  rot  and  mould.  Taste 
for  once  the  zest  of  living ;  then  come  back,  if  you 
can,  to  this  tomb.  Come,  come,  Max !  Let  us  to 
Burgundy  to  win  this  fair  lady  who  awaits  us  and 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CKAGS  19 

doubtless  holds  us  faint  of  heart  because  we  dare  not 
strike  for  her.  I  shall  have  one  more  sweet  draught 
of  life  before  I  die.  You  will  learn  a  lesson  that 
will  give  you  strength  for  all  the  years  to  come,  and 
will  have,  at  least,  a  chance  of  winning  the  lady.  It 
may  be  one  chance  in  a  million  ;  but  God  favors  the 
brave,  and  you  have  no  chance  if  you  remain  perched 
owl-like  upon  this  wilderness  of  rock.  Max,  you 
know  not  what  awaits  you.  Rouse  yourself  from 
this  sloth  of  a  thousand  years,  and  strike  fire  from 
the  earth  that  shall  illumine  your  name  to  the  end  of 
time !  " 

"  But  we  have  no  money  for  our  travels,  and  father 
has  none  to  give  me,"  he  answered. 

"  True,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  have  a  small  sum  in  the 
hands  of  a  merchant  at  Vienna  that  will  support  us  for 
a  time.  When  it  is  spent,  we  must  make  our  bread  or 
starve.  That  will  be  the  best  part  of  our  experience. 
A  struggle  for  existence  sweetens  it;  and  if  we  starve, 
we  shall  deserve  the  fate." 

After  three  days  Max  gave  me  his  answer. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  Karl,"  he  said ;  "  you  have 
never  led  me  wrong.  If  we  starve,  I  shall  not  be 
much  worse  off  than  I  am  here  in  Styria.  It  hurts 
me  to  say  that  the  love  of  my  father  and  mother  is 
my  greatest  danger;  but  it  is  true.  They  have  lived 
here  so  long,  feeding  on  the  poor  adulation  of  a  poor 
people,  that  they  do  not  see  life  truly.  I  have  had 


20  YOLANDA 

none  of  the  joys  and  pleasures  which,  my  heart  tells 
me,  life  holds.  I  have  known  nothing  but  this 
existence  —  hard  and  barren  as  the  rocks  that  sur 
round  me.  I  must,  in  time,  return  to  Styria  and  take 
up  my  burden,  but,  Karl,  I  will  first  live." 

After  this  great  stand,  Max  and  I  attacked  first 
the  father  fortress  and  then  the  mother  stronghold. 
The  latter  required  a  long  siege;  but  at  last  it  sur 
rendered  unconditionally,  and  the  day  was  appointed 
when  Max  and  I  should  ride  out  in  quest  of  fortune, 
and,  perhaps,  a-bride-hunting.  Neither  of  us  men 
tioned  Burgundy.  I  confess  to  telling  —  at  least,  to 
acting  —  a  lie.  We  said  that  we  wished  to  go  to  my 
people  in  Italy,  and  to  visit  Rome,  Venice,  and  other 
cities.  I  said  that  I  had  a  small  sum  of  gold  that  I 
should  be  glad  to  use ;  but  I  did  not  say  how  small  it 
was,  and  no  hint  was  dropped  that  the  heir  to  Styria 
might  be  compelled  to  soil  his  hands  by  earning  his 
daily  bread.  We  easily  agreed  among  ourselves  that 
Max  and  I,  lacking  funds  to  travel  in  state  befitting 
a  prince  of  the  House  of  Hapsburg,  should  go  incognito. 
I  should  keep  my  own  name,  it  being  little  known. 
Max  should  take  the  name  of  his  mother's  house,  and 
should  be  known  as  Sir  Maximilian  du  Guelph. 

At  last  came  the  momentous  day  of  our  departure. 
The  battlements  of  the  gate  were  crowded  with  re 
tainers,  many  of  them  in  tears  at  losing  "  My  young 


A  CASTLE  AMONG  THE  CRAGS  21 

Lord,  the  Count."  Public  opinion  in  Castle  Hapsburg 
unanimously  condemned  the  expedition,  and  I  was 
roundly  abused  for  what  was  held  to  be  my  part  in 
the  terrible  mistake.  Such  an  untoward  thing  had 
never  before  happened  in  the  House  of  Hapsburg. 
Its  annals  nowhere  revealed  a  journey  of  an  heir 
into  the  contaminating  world.  The  dignity  of  the 
house  was  impaired  beyond  remedy,  and  all  by  the 
advice  of  a  foreigner.  There  was  no  lack  of  grum 
bling  ;  but  of  course  the  duke's  will  was  law.  If  he 
wished  to  hang  the  count,  he  might  do  so ;  there 
fore  the  grumbling  reached  the  duke's  ears  only  from 
a  distance. 


CHAPTER   II 

KNIGHTS-EKRANT 

rjlHE  good  mother  had  made  a  bundle  for  her  son 
J-  that  would  have  brought  a  smile  to  my  lips  had 
it  not  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.  There  were  her 
homely  balsams  to  cure  Max's  ailments ;  true,  he  had 
never  been  ill,  but  he  might  be.  There  was  a  pillow 
of  down  for  his  head,  and  a  lawn  ^kerchief  to  keep  the 
wind  from  his  delicate  throat.  Last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  was  the  dear  old  mother's  greatest  treasure,  a 
tooth  of  St.  Martin,  which  she  firmly  believed  would 
keep  her  son's  heart  pure  and  free  from  sin.  Of  that 
amulet  Max  did  not  stand  in  need. 

We  followed  the  Save  for  many  leagues,  and  left 
its  beautiful  banks  only  to  journey  toward  Vienna. 
At  that  city  I  drew  my  slender  stock  of  gold  from 
the  merchant  that  had  been  keeping  it  for  me,  and 
bought  a  beautiful  chain  coat  for  Max.  He  already 
had  a  good,  though  plain,  suit  of  steel  plate  which 
his  father  had  given  him  when  he  received  the  acco 
lade.  I  owned  a  good  plate  armor  and  the  most  per 
fect  chain  coat  I  have  ever  seen.  I  took  it  from  a 
Saracen  lord  one  day  in  battle,  and  gave  him  his  own 

22 


KNIGHTS-EREANT  23 

life  in  payment.  Max  and  I  each  bore  a  long  sword, 
a  short  sword,  and  a  mace.  We  carried  no  lance. 
That  weapon  is  burdensome,  and  we  could  get  one  at 
any  place  along  our  journey. 

I  was  proud  of  Max  the  morning  we  rode  out  of 
Vienna,  true  knights-errant,  with  the  greatest  princess 
in  Europe  as  our  objective  prize.  Truly,  we  were  in 
no  wise  modest ;  but  the  God  of  heaven,  the  god  of 
Luck,  and  the  god  of  Love  all  favor  the  man  that 
is  bold  enough  to  attempt  the  impossible. 

My  stock  of  gold  might,  with  frugality,  last  us  three 
months,  but  after  that  we  should  surely  have  to  make 
our  own  way  or  starve.  We  hoped  that  Max  would 
be  successful  in  filling  our  purses  with  prize  money 
and  ransoms,  should  we  fall  in  with  a  tournament 
now  and  then ;  but,  lacking  that  good  fortune,  we 
expected  to  engage  ourselves  as  escorts  to  merchant 
caravans.  By  this  kind  of  employment  we  hoped  to 
be  housed  and  fed  upon  our  travels  and  to  receive  at 
each  journey's  end  a  good  round  sum  of  gold  for  our 
services.  But  we  might  find  neither  tournament  nor 
merchant  caravan.  Then  there  wrould  be  trouble  and 
hardship  for  us,  and  perhaps,  at  times,  an  aching  void 
under  our  belts.  I  had  often  suffered  the  like. 

Ours,  you  see,  was  not  to  be  a  flower-strewn  jour 
ney  of  tinselled  prince  to  embowered  princess.  Be 
fore  our  return  to  Styria,  Max  would  probably 
receive  what  he  needed  to  make  a  man  of  him  — 


24  YOLANDA 

hard  knocks  and  rough  blows  in  the  real  battle  of 
life.  Above  all,  he  would  learn  to  know  the  people 
of  whom  this  great  world  is  composed,  and  would 
return  to  Hapsburg  Castle  full  of  all  sorts  of  noxious 
heresies,  to  the  everlasting  horror  of  the  duke  and 
the  duchess.  They  probably  would  never  forgive  me 
for  making  a  real  live  man  of  their  son,  but  I  should 
have  my  reward  in  Max. 

To  Max,  of  course,  the  future  was  rosy-hued.  Cara 
vans  were  waiting  for  our  protection,  and  princes  were 
preparing  tournaments  for  our  special  behoof.  We 
want  for  food  to  eat  or  place  to  lay  our  heads  ? 
Absurd !  Our  purses  would  soon  be  so  heavy  they 
would  burden  us ;  we  should  soon  need  squires  to  carry 
them.  If  it  were  not  for  our  desire  to  remain  incog 
nito,  we  might  presently  collect  a  retinue  and  travel 
with  herald  and  banner.  But  at  the  end  of  all  was 
sweet  Mary  of  Burgundy  waiting  to  be  carried  off  by 
Maximilian,  Count  of  Hapsburg. 

Just  what  the  boy  expected  to  do  in  Burgundy,  I 
did  not  know.  For  the  lady's  wealth  I  believe 
he  did  not  care  a  straw  —  he  wanted  herself.  He 
hoped  that  Charles,  for  his  own  peace,  would 
not  be  too  uncivil  and  would  not  force  a  desperate 
person  to  take  extreme  measures ;  but  should  this 
rash  duke  be  blind  to  his  own  interests  —  well,  let 
him  beware !  Some  one  might  carry  off  his  daughter 
right  from  under  the  ducal  nose.  Then  let  the  Bur- 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  25 

gundian  follow  at  his  peril.  Castle  Hapsburg  would 
open  his  eyes.  He  would  learn  what  an  impregnable 
castle  really  is.  If  Duke  Charles  thought  he  could 
bring  his  soft-footed  Walloons,  used  only  to  the  mud 
roads  of  Burgundy,  up  the  stony  path  to  the  hawk's 
crag,  why,  let  him  try  !  Harmless  boasting  is  a  boy's 
vent.  Max  did  not  really  mean  to  boast,  he  was 
only  wishing ;  and  to  a  flushed,  enthusiastic  soul,  the 
wish  of  to-day  is  apt  to  look  like  the  fact  of  to-morrow. 

We  hoped  to  find  a  caravan  ready  to  leave  Linz, 
but  we  were  disappointed,  so  we  journeyed  by  the 
Danube  to  the  mouth  of  the  Inn,  up  which  we  went 
to  Muhldorf.  There  we  found  a  small  caravan  bound 
for  Munich  on  the  Iser.  From  Munich  we  travelled 
with  a  caravan  to  Augsburg,  and  thence  to  Ulm,  where 
we  were  overjoyed  to  meet  once  more  our  old  friend, 
the  Danube.  Max  snatched  up  a  handful  of  water, 
kissed  it,  and  tossed  it  back  to  the  river,  saying :  — 

"  Sweet  water,  carry  my  kiss  to  the  river  Save ; 
there  give  it  to  a  nymph  that  you  will  find  waiting, 
and  tell  her  to  take  it  to  my  dear  old  mother  in  far- 
off  Styria." 

Do  not  think  that  we  met  with  no  hard  fortune  in 
our  journeying.  My  gold  was  exhausted  before  we 
reached  Muhldorf,  and  we  often  travelled  hungry, 
meeting  with  many  lowly  adventures.  Max  at  first 
resented  the  familiarity  of  strangers,  but  hunger  is 
one  of  the  factors  in  man-building,  and  the  scales 


26  YOLANDA 

soon  began  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  Dignity  is  a  good 
thing  to  stand  on,  but  a  poor  thing  to  travel  with, 
and  Max  soon  found  it  the  most  cumbersome  piece 
of  luggage  a  knight-errant  could  carry. 

Among  our  misfortunes  was  the  loss  of  the  bundle 
prepared  by  the  duchess,  and  with  it,  alas !  St. 
Martin's  tooth.  Max  was  so  deeply  troubled  by  the 
loss  of  the  tooth  that  I  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Karl,  I  am  surprised  that  you  laugh  at  the  loss  of 
my  mother's  sacred  relic,"  said  Max,  sorrowfully. 

I  continued  to  laugh,  and  said :  « We  may  get 
another  tooth  from  the  first  barber  we  meet.  It 
will  answer  all  the  purposes  of  the  one  you  have 
lost." 

«  Truly,  Karl  ?  " 

"  Truly,"  I  answered.     "  The  tooth  was  a  humbug." 

"  I  have  long  thought  as  much,"  said  Max,  "  but 
I  valued  it  because  my  mother  loved  it." 

"  A  good  reason,  Max,"  I  replied,  and  the  tooth  was 
never  afterward  mentioned. 

From  Ulm  we  guarded  a  caravan  to  Cannstadt. 
From  that  city  we  hoped  to  go  to  Strasburg,  and 
thence  through  Lorraine  to  Burgundy,  but  we  found 
no  caravan  bound  in  that  direction.  Our  sojourn  at 
Cannstadt  exhausted  the  money  we  got  for  our  jour 
neys  from  Augsburg  and  Ulm,  and  we  were  compelled, 
much  against  our  will,  to  accept  an  offer  of  service 
with  one  Master  Franz,  a  silk  merchant  of  Basel,  who 


KNIGHTS-EREANT  27 

was  about  to  journey  homeward.  His  caravan  would 
pass  through  the  Black  Forest ;  perhaps  the  most 
dangerous  country  in  Europe  for  travellers. 

Knowing  the  perils  ahead  of  us,  I  engaged  two 
stout  men-at-arms,  and  late  in  February  we  started 
for  Basel  as  bodyguard  to  good  Master  Franz.  Think 
of  the  heir  of  Hapsburg  marching  in  the  train  of  a 
Swiss  merchant !  Max  dared  not  think  of  it ;  he  was 
utterly  humiliated  ! 

Our  first  good  fortune  at  Muhldorf  he  looked  on  as 
the  deepest  degradation  a  man  might  endure,  but  he 
could  not  starve,  and  he  would  not  beg.  Not  once 
did  he  even  think  of  returning  to  Styria,  and,  in  truth, 
he  could  not  have  done  so  had  he  wished  ;  our  bridges 
were  burned  behind  us ;  our  money  was  spent. 

By  the  time  we  had  finished  half  our  journey  to 
Basel,  Max  liked  the  life  we  were  leading,  and  learned 
to  love  personal  liberty,  of  which  he  had  known  so 
little.  Now  he  could  actually  do  what  he  wished.  He 
could  even  slap  a  man  on  the  back  and  call  him  "com 
rade."  Of  course,  if  the  process  were  reversed,  — if  any 
one  slapped  Max  on  the  back,  —  well,  dignity  is  tender 
and  not  to  be  slapped.  On  several  occasions  Max  got 
himself  into  trouble  by  resenting  familiarities,  and  his 
difficulties  at  times  were  ludicrous.  Once  a  fist  fight 
occurred.  The  heir  of  Hapsburg  was  actually  com 
pelled  to  fight  with  his  fists.  He  thrashed  the  poor 
fellow  most  terribly,  and  I  believe  would  have  killed 


28  YOLANDA 

him  had  not  I  stayed  his  hand.  Another  time  a  pretty 
girl  at  Augsburg  became  familiar  with  him,  and  Max 
checked  her  peremptorily.  When  he  grew  angry,  she 
laughed,  and  saucily  held  up  her  lips  for  a  kiss.  Max 
looked  at  me  in  half-amused  wonder. 

"  Take  it,  Max  ;  there  is  no  harm  in  it,"  I  suggested. 

Max  found  it  so,  and  immediately  wanted  more, 
but  the  girl  said  too  many  would  not  be  good  for 
him.  She  promised  others  later  on,  if  he  were  very, 
very  good.  Thus  Max  was  conquered  by  a  kiss  at 
the  wayside. 

The  girl  was  very  pretty,  Max  was  very  good,  and 
she  helped  me  wonderfully  in  reducing  his  superfluous 
dignity.  Her  name  was  Gertrude,  and  we  spoke  of 
her  afterward  as  "  Gertrude  the  Conqueror."  She 
was  a  most  enticing  little  individual,  and  Max  learned 
that  persons  of  low  degree  really  may  be  interesting. 
That  was  his  first  great  lesson.  I  had  some  trouble 
after  leaving  Augsburg  to  keep  him  from  taking  too 
many  lessons  of  the  same  sort. 

Our  contract  with  Franz  provided  that  we  should 
receive  no  compensation  until  after  his  merchandise 
had  safely  reached  Basel,  but  then  our  remuneration 
was  to  be  large.  Max  had  no  doubt  as  to  the  safe 
arrival  of  the  caravan  at  Basel,  and  he  rejoiced  at 
the  prospect.  I  tried  to  reduce  the  rosy  hue  of  his 
dreams,  but  failed.  I  suggested  that  we  might  have 
fighting  ahead  of  us  harder  than  any  we  had  known, 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  29 

though  we  had  given  and  taken  some  rough  knocks 
on  two  of  our  expeditions.  Max  laughed  and  longed 
for  the  fray;  he  was  beginning  to  live.  The  fray 
came  quickly  enough  after  we  reached  the  Black 
Forest,  and  the  fight  was  sufficiently  warm  to  suit 
even  enthusiastic  Max.  He  and  I  were  wounded  ; 
one  of  our  men-at-arms  was  killed,  and  Franz's  life 
was  saved  only  by  an  heroic  feat  of  arms  on  Max's 
part.  The  robbers  were  driven  off ;  we  spent  a  fort 
night  in  a  near-by  monastery,  that  our  wounds  might 
heal,  and  again  started  for  Basel. 

During  the  last  week  in  March  we  approached  Basel. 
Max  had  saved  the  merchant's  life  ;  we  had  protected 
the  caravan  from  robbery ;  and  good  Franz  was 
grateful.  Notwithstanding  our  sure  reward,  Max  was 
gloomy.  The  future  had  lost  its  rosiness  ;  his  wound 
did  not  readily  heal ;  Basel  was  half  a  hundred 
leagues  off  our  road  to  Burgundy.  Why  did  we  ever 
come  to  Switzerland  ?  Everything  was  wrong.  But 
no  man  knows  what  good  fortune  may  lurk  in  an  evil 
chance. 

At  the  close  of  a  stormy  day  we  sighted  Basel  from 
the  top  of  a  hill,  and  soon  the  lights,  one  by  one,  began 
to  twinkle  cosily  through  the  gloaming.  All  day  long 
drizzling  rain  and  spitting  snow  had  blown  in  our 
faces  like  lance  points,  driven  down  the  wind  straight 
from  the  icy  Alps.  We  were  chilled  to  the  bone ; 
and  in  all  my  life  I  have  never  beheld  a  sight  so 


30  YOLANDA 

comforting  as  the  home  lights  of  the  quaint  old  Swiss 
city. 

Franz  soon  found  a  wherry  and,  after  crossing  the 
Rhine,  we  marched  slowly  down  the  river  street,  duck 
ing  our  heads  to  the  blast.  Within  half  an  hour  we 
passed  under  a  stone  archway  and  found  ourselves 
snug  in  the  haven  of  our  merchant's  courtyard. 
Even  the  sumpter  mules  rejoiced,  and  gave  forth  a 
chorus  of  brays  that  did  one's  heart  good.  Every 
tone  of  their  voices  spoke  of  the  warm  stalls,  the 
double  feed  of  oats,  and  the  great  manger  of  sweet 
hay  that  awaited  them.  Before  going  into  the  house 
Max  gave  to  each  mule  a  stroke  of  his  hand  in  token 
of  affection.  Surely  this  proud  automaton  of  Haps- 
burg  was  growing  lowly  in  his  tastes.  In  other 
words,  nature  had  captured  his  heart  and  was  driving 
out  the  inherited  conventions  of  twenty  generations. 
Five  months  of  contact  with  the  world  had  wrought 
a  greater  cure  than  I  had  hoped  five  years  would 
work.  I  was  making  a  man  out  of  the  flesh  and 
blood  of  a  Hapsburg.  God  only  knows  when  the  like 
had  happened  before. 

Max  and  I  were  conducted  by  a  demure  little  Swiss 
maid  to  a  large  room  on  the  third  floor  of  the  house, 
overlooking  the  Rhine.  There  was  no  luxury,  but 
there  was  every  comfort.  There  were  two  beds,  each 
with  a  soft  feather  mattress,  pillows  of  down,  and 
warm,  stuffed  coverlets  of  silk.  These  were  not  known 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  31 

even  in  the  duke's  apartments  at  Hapsburg  Castle. 
There  we  had  tarnished  gold  cloth  and  ancient  tapes 
tries  in  abundance,  but  we  lacked  the  little  comforts 
that  make  life  worth  living.  Here  Max  learned  an 
other  lesson  concerning  the  people  of  this  world. 
The  lowly  Swiss  merchant's  unknown  guest  slept 
more  comfortably  than  did  the  Duke  of  Styria. 

When  we  went  down  to  supper,  I  could  see  the 
effort  it  cost  Max  to  sit  at  table  with  these  good 
people.  But  the  struggle  was  not  very  great ;  five 
months  before  it  would  have  been  impossible.  At 
Hapsburg  he  sat  at  table  with  his  father  and  mother 
only ;  even  I  had  never  sat  with  him  in  the  castle. 
At  Basel  he  was  sitting  with  a  burgher  and  a  burgher's 
frau.  In  Styria  he  ate  boar's  meat  from  battered  sil 
ver  plate  and  drank  sour  wine  from  superannuated 
golden  goblets  ;  in  Switzerland  he  ate  tender,  juicy 
meats  and  toothsome  pastries  from  stone  dishes  and 
drank  rich  Cannstadt  beer  from  leathern  mugs.  His 
palate  and  his  stomach  jointly  attacked  his  brain,  and 
the  horrors  of  life  in  Hapsburg  appeared  in  their  true 
colors. 

On  the  morning  of  our  second  day  at  Basel,  Franz 
invited  us  to  be  his  guests  during  our  sojourn  in  the 
city.  His  house  was  large,  having  been  built  to 
entertain  customers  who  came  from  great  distances 
to  buy  his  silks. 

Max  and  I  had  expected  to  leave  Basel  when  our 


32  YOLANDA 

wounds  were  entirely  healed,  but  we  changed  our 
minds  after  I  had  talked  with  Franz.  The  con 
versation  that  brought  about  this  change  occurred  one 
morning  while  the  merchant  and  I  were  sitting  in 
his  shop.  He  handed  me  a  purse  filled  with  gold, 
saying : — 

"  Here  is  twice  the  sum  I  agreed  to  pay.  I  beg 
that  you  accept  it  since  I  shall  still  be  in  your  debt." 

I  knew  by  the  weight  of  the  gold  that  it  was  a 
larger  sum  than  I  had  ever  before  possessed.  I  did 
not  like  to  accept  it,  but  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  refuse  a  thing  so  important  to  Max. 

"  We  should  not  accept  this  from  you,  good  Franz, 
but  _  but  —  " 

"  The  boy  saved  my  life  and  my  fortune,"  he  in 
terrupted,  "and  I  am  really  ashamed  to  offer  you 
so  small  a  sum.  You  should  have  half  of  all  my 
goods." 

1  protested  and  thanked  him  heartily,  not  only 
for  his  gift,  but  also  for  his  manner  of  giving.  Then 
I  told  him  of  our  intended  journey  to  Burgundy  — 
of  course  not  mentioning  the  princess  —  and  asked 
if  he  knew  of  any  merchant  who  would  soon  be 
travelling  that  way. 

"  There  are  many  going  down  the  river  from 
Basel  to  Strasburg,"  he  answered,  "  and  you  may 
easily  fall  in  with  one  any  day.  But  there  will  soon 
be  an  opportunity  for  you  to  travel  all  the  way  to 


KNIGHTS-EEKANT  33 

Burgundy.  I  know  the  very  man  for  your  purpose. 
He  is  Master  George  Castleman  of  Peronne.  He 
comes  every  spring,  if  there  is  peace  along  the  road, 
to  buy  silks.  We  now  have  peace,  though  I  fear  it 
will  be  of  short  duration,  and  I  am  expecting  Castle 
man  early  this  season.  He  will  probably  be  here 
before  the  first  of  May.  He  is  a  rich  merchant,  and 
was  one  of  the  councillors  of  Duke  Philip  the  Good, 
father  to  the  present  Duke  of  Burgundy.  Years  ago 
Duke  Philip  built  a  house  for  him  abutting  the 
walls  of  Peronne  Castle.  It  is  called  '  The  House 
under  the  Wall,'  and  Castleman  still  lives  in  it. 
He  refused  a  title  of  nobility  offered  him  by  Duke 
Philip.  He  is  not  out  of  favor  with  the  present 
duke,  but  he  loves  peace  too  dearly  to  be  of  use  to  the 
hot-headed,  tempestuous  Charles.  Duke  Charles,  as 
you  know,  is  really  King  of  Burgundy  —  the  richest 
land  on  earth.  His  domain  is  the  envy  of  every 
king,  but  he  will  bring  all  his  grandeur  tumbling 
about  his  head  if  he  perseveres  in  his  present  course 
of  violence  and  greed." 

At  that  moment  Max  joined  us. 

"  I  hear  this  Duke  Charles  has  no  son  to  inherit 
his  rich  domain  ? "  I  observed  interrogatively. 

"  No,"  answered  Franz.  "  He  has  a  daughter,  the 
Princess  Mary,  who  will  inherit  Burgundy.  She  is 
said  to  be  as  gentle  as  her  father  is  violent.  Castle 
man  tells  me  that  she  is  gracious  and  kind  to  those 


34  YOLAKDA 

beneath  her,  and,  in  my  opinion,  that  is  the  true 
stamp  of  greatness." 

Those  were  healthful  words  for  Max. 

"  The  really  great  and  good  have  no  need  to  assert 
their  qualities,"  I  answered. 

"  Castleman  often  speaks  of  the  princess,"  said 
Franz.  "  He  tells  me  that  his  daughter  Antoinette 
and  the  Princess  Mary  have  been  friends  since  child 
hood  —  that  is,  of  course,  so  far  as  persons  so  widely 
separated  by  birth  and  station  can  be  friends." 

I  briefly  told  Max  what  Franz  had  said  concern 
ing  Castleman,  and  the  young  fellow  was  delighted 
at  the  prospect  of  an  early  start  for  Peronne. 

In  Max's  awakening,  the  radiance  of  his  ideal  may 
have  been  dimmed,  but  if  so,  the  words  of  Franz  re 
stored  its  lustre.  If  the  boy's  fancy  had  wandered, 
it  quickly  returned  to  the  lady  of  Burgundy. 

I  asked  Franz  if  Duke  Charles  lived  at  Peronne. 

«No,  he  lives  at  Ghent,"  he  answered;  "but  on 
rare  occasions  he  visits  Peronne,  which  is  on  the 
French  border.  Duke  Philip  once  lived  there,  but 
Charles  keeps  Peronne  only  as  his  watch-tower  to 
overlook  his  old  enemy,  France.  The  enmity,  I  hope, 
will  cease,  now  that  the  Princess  Mary  is  to  marry 
the  Dauphin." 

This  confirmation  of  a  rumor  which  I  had  already 
heard  was  anything  but  welcome.  However,  it  sen 
sitized  the  feeling  Max  entertained  for  his  unknown 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  36 

lady-love,  and  strengthened  his  resolution  to  pursue 
his  journey  to  Burgundy  at  whatever  cost. 

I  led  Franz  to  speak  of  Burgundian  affairs  and  he 
continued :  — 

"  The  princess  and  her  stepmother,  the  Duchess 
Margaret,  live  at  Peronne.  They  doubtless  found 
life  at  Ghent  with  the  duke  too  violent.  It  is  said 
that  the  duchess  is  unhappily  wedded  to  the  fierce- 
duke,  and  that  the  unfortunate  princess  finds  little 
favor  in  her  father's  eyes  because  he  cannot  forgive 
her  the  grievous  fault  of  being  a  girl." 

While  Franz  was  talking  I  was  dreaming.  A 
kind  providence  had  led  us  a  half-hundred  leagues 
out  of  our  road,  through  wounds  and  hardships,  to 
Basel ;  but  that  quiet  city  might  after  all  prove  to  be 
the  open  doorway  to  Max's  fortune.  My  air-castle 
was  of  this  architecture :  Max  would  win  old  Castle- 
man's  favor  —  an  easy  task.  We  would  journey  to 
Peronne,  seek  Castleman's  house,  pay  court  to  An 
toinette  —  I  prayed  she  might  not  be  too  pretty  — 
and  —  you  can  easily  find  your  way  over  the  rest 
of  my  castle. 

Within  a  fortnight  Max  and  I  had  recovered  en 
tirely  from  our  wounds,  and  were  abroad  each  day 
in  the  growing  warmth  of  the  sunshine.  We  did 
not  often  speak  of  Castleman,  but  we  waited,  each 
day  wishing  for  his  speedy  advent. 

At  last,  one  beautiful  evening  early  in  May,  he 


36  YOLANDA 

arrived.  Max  and  I  were  sitting  at  our  window 
watching  the  river,  when  the  little  company  rode  up 
to  the  door  of  the  merchant's  shop.  With  Castleman 
were  two  young  women  hardly  more  than  girls. 
One  of  them  was  a  pink  and  white  young  beauty, 
rather  tall  and  somewhat  stout.  Her  face,  com 
plexion,  and  hair  were  exquisite,  but  there  was  little 
animation  in  her  expression.  The  other  girl  had 
features  less  regular,  perhaps,  but  she  was  infinitely 
more  attractive.  She  was  small,  but  beautiful  in 
form  ;  and  she  sprang  from  her  horse  with  the  grace 
of  a  kitten.  Her  face  was  not  so  white  as  her  com 
panion's,  but  its  color  was  entrancing.  Her  expres 
sion  was  animated,  and  her  great  brown  eyes  danced 
like  twinkling  stars  on  a  clear,  moonless  night. 

The  young  women  entered  the  house,  and  we  saw 
nothing  more  of  them  for  several  days. 

When  we  met  Castleman,  he  gladly  engaged  our 
services  to  Peronne,  having  heard  from  Franz  of  our 
adventures  in  the  Black  Forest.  We  left  the  terms 
to  him,  and  he  suggested  a  compensation  far  greater 
than  we  should  have  asked.  The  sum  we  received 
from  Franz,  together  with  that  which  we  should  get 
from  Castleman,  would  place  us  beyond  want  for  a 
year  to  come.  Surely  luck  was  with  us. 

After  Castleman's  arrival  our  meals  were  served  in 
our  room,  and  we  saw  little  of  him  or  of  Franz  for 
a  week  or  more.  Twice  I  saw  Castleman  ride  out 


KNIGHTS-ERKANT  37 

with  the  young  women,  and  after  that  I  haunted  the 
front  door  of  the  house.  One  bright  afternoon  I  met 
them  as  they  were  about  to  dismount.  Castleman 
was  an  old  man  and  quite  stout,  so  I  helped  him 
from  his  horse.  He  then  turned  to  the  fair  girl  of 
pink  and  white,  saying :  — 

"  Antoinette,  daughter,  this  is  Sir  Karl  de  Pitti, 
who  will  accompany  us  to  Peronne." 

I  made  my  bow  and  assisted  Fraulein  Antoinette  to 
the  ground.  The  other  young  lady  sprang  nimbly 
from  her  saddle  without  assistance  and  waited,  as  I 
thought,  to  be  presented.  Castleman  did  not  offer 
to  present  her,  and  she  ran  to  the  house,  followed  by 
serene  Antoinette.  I  concluded  that  the  smaller  girl 
was  Fraulein  Castleman's  maid.  I  knew  that  great 
familiarity  between  mistress  and  servant  was  usual 
among  the  burgher  class. 

The  smaller  girl  was  certainly  attractive,  but  I  did 
not  care  for  her  acquaintance.  Antoinette  was  the 
one  in  whose  eyes  I  hoped  to  find  favor,  first  for  my 
self  and  then  for  Max.  By  her  help  I  hoped  Max 
might  be  brought  to  meet  the  Princess  of  Burgundy 
when  we  should  reach  Peronne.  I  had  little  doubt 
of  Max's  success  in  pleasing  Antoinette ;  I  was  not  at 
all  anxious  that  he  should  please  the  smaller  maid. 
There  was  a  saucy  glance  in  her  dark  eyes,  and  a 
tremulous  little  smile  constantly  playing  about  her 
red,  bedimpled  mouth,  that  boded  trouble  to  a  suscep- 


38  YOLANDA 

tible  masculine  heart.  Max,  with  all  his  simplicity, 
though  not  susceptible,  had  about  him  an  impetuosity 
when  his  interest  was  aroused  of  which  I  had  learned 
to  stand  in  wholesome  dread.  I  was  jealous  of  any 
woman  who  might  disturb  his  dreams  of  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  and  this  little  maid  was  surely  attractive 
enough  to  turn  any  man's  head  her  way  if  she  so 
desired. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  I  saw  Fraulein  Antoinette  in 
the  shop  looking  at  silks  and  laces.  Hoping  to  im 
prove  the  opportunity,  I  approached  her,  and  was 
received  with  a  serene  and  gracious  smile.  Near 
Antoinette  were  the  saucy  brown  eyes  and  the 
bedimpled  mouth.  Truly  they  were  exquisitely  beau 
tiful  in  combination,  and,  old  as  I  was,  I  could  not 
keep  my  eyes  from  them.  The  eyes  and  dimples 
came  quickly  to  Antoinette,  who  presented  me  to  her 
"  Cousin  Fraulein  Yolanda  Castleman."  Fraulein 
Yolanda  bowed  with  a  grace  one  would  not  expect 
to  find  in  a  burgher  girl,  and  said  with  the  con 
descension  of  a  princess  :  — 

"  Sir  Karl,  you  pleasure  me." 

I  was  not  prepared  for  her  manner.  She  probably 
was  not  Antoinette's  maid.  A  pause  followed  my 
presentation  which  might  have  been  meant  by  the 
brown-eyed  maid  as  permission  to  withdraw.  But  I 
was  for  having  further  words  with  Antoinette.  She, 
however,  stepped  back  from  her  cousin,  and,  if  I  was 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  39 

to  remain,  I  must  speak  to  my  lady  Fraulein  Yolanda 
Castleman  or  remain  silent,  so  I  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  reside  in  Basel,  Fraulein  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  replied,  with  no  touch  of  bourgeois 
confusion,  "  I  am  a  Burgundian.  Uncle  Castleman, 
after  promising  Twonette  "  (I  spell  the  name  as  she 
pronounced  it)  "  and  me  for  years,  has  brought  us  on 
this  long  journey  into  the  world.  I  am  enjoying  it 
more  than  any  one  can  know,  but  poor  uncle  lives 
in  dread  of  the  journey  home.  He  upbraids  himself 
for  having  brought  us  and  declares  that  if  he  but 
had  us  home  again,  nothing  could  induce  him  to  start 
out  with  such  a  cargo  of  merchandise." 

"  Well  he  may  be  fearful,"  I  answered.  "  Where 
one's  greatest  treasure  is,  there  is  his  greatest  fear, 
but  peace  reigns  on  the  road  to  Burgundy,  and  I  hope 
your  good  uncle's  fears  are  without  ground  save  in  his 
love." 

"  I  hear  you  are  to  accompany  us,  arid  of  course  we 
shall  be  safe,"  she  said,  the  shadow  of  a  smile  playing 
suspiciously  about  her  mouth  and  dancing  in  her  eyes. 

" Yes,  I  am  to  have  that  great  honor"  I  replied, 
bowing  very  low.  I,  too,  could  be  sarcastic. 

"  Does  the  —  will  the  —  the  gentleman  who  is  with 
you  accompany  us  ?  "  asked  Fraulein  Yolanda.  So  ! 
These  maidens  of  Burgundy  had  already  seen  my 
handsome  Max  !  This  one  would  surely  be  tempting 
him  with  her  eyes  and  her  irresistible  little  smile. 


40  YOLANDA 

"  Yolanda  !  "  exclaimed  serene  Twonette.  Yolanda 
gave  no  heed. 

"  Yes,  Fraulein,"  I  responded.  "  He  goes  with  us. 
Do  you  live  in  Peronne  ?  " 

"  Y-e-s,"  she  replied  hesitatingly.  "  Where  is  your 
home  and  your  friend's  ?  " 

"  Yolanda  ! "  again  came  in  tones  of  mild  remon 
strance  from  Fraulein  Antoinette.  The  dimples  again 
ignored  the  warning  and  waited  for  my  answer. 

"  We  have  no  home  at  present  save  the  broad  earth, 
Fraulein,"  I  responded. 

"  You  cannot  occupy  it  all,"  she  retorted,  looking 
roguishly  up  to  me. 

"  No,"  I  responded,  "  we  are  occupying  this  part  of 
the  earth  at  present,  but  we  hope  soon  to  occupy  Bur 
gundy." 

"  Please  leave  a  small  patch  of  that  fair  land  for 
Twonette  and  me,"  she  answered,  in  mock  entreaty. 
After  a  short  pause  she  continued  :  — 

"  It  seems  easier  for  you  to  ask  questions  than  to 
answer  them." 

"  Fraulein,"  I  responded,  « your  question  is  not 
easily  answered.  I  was  born  in  Italy.  I  lived  for 
many  years  in  the  East,  and — " 

"  I  did  not  ask  for  your  biograph}7,"  she  said, 
interrupting  me.  I  did  not  notice  the  interruption, 
but  continued:  — 

"  I  spent  six  years  in  your  fair  land  of  Burgundy. 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  41 

My  mother  was  a  Walloon.  I  dearly  love  her  people, 
and  hope  that  my  home  may  soon  be  among  them." 

The  girl's  face  had  been  slightly  clouded,  but  when 
I  spoke  lovingly  of  the  Walloons,  the  dimples  again 
played  around  her  mouth  and  a  smile  brightened  her 
eyes. 

"  I  also  am  a  Walloon,"  she  answered ;  "  and  your 
friend  ?  He  surely  is  not  Italian  :  he  is  too  fair." 

"The  Lombards  are  fair,"  I  answered,  "and  the 
Guelphs,  you  know,  are  of  Lombardy.  You  may 
have  heard  of  the  Houses  of  Guelph  and  of  Pitti." 

"  I  have  often  heard  of  them,"  she  answered;  then, 
after  a  short  silence,  —  "  I  fear  I  have  asked  too  many 
questions."  A  gentle,  apologetic  smile  lighted  her 
face  and  won  me  instantly.  I  liked  her  as  much  as  I 
admired  her.  I  knew  that  she  wanted  me  to  speak 
of  Max,  so  to  please  her  I  continued,  even  against  my 
inclination  :  — 

"  My  young  friend,  Sir  Maximilian  du  Guelph, 
wanted  to  see  the  world.  We  are  very  poor,  Fraulein, 
and  if  we  would  travel,  we  must  make  our  way  as  we 
go.  We  have  just  come  from  Ulm  and  Cannstadt, 
passing  through  the  Black  Forest.  Sir  Max  saved  the 
life  of  our  host,  and  in  so  doing  was  grievously  wounded. 
Good  Master  Franz  rewarded  us  far  beyond  our  de 
serts,  and  for  the  time  being  we  think  we  are  rich." 

"  The  name  Maximilian  is  not  Italian,"  observed 
Yolanda.  "  It  has  an  Austrian  sound." 


42  YOLANDA 

"  That  is  true,"  I  responded.  «  My  name,  Karl,  is 
German.  Few  names  nowadays  keep  to  their  own 
country.  Your  name,  Yolanda,  for  example,  is 
Italian." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  she  answered  inquiringly,  taking 
up  a  piece  of  lace.  I  saw  that  the  interview  was 
closing.  After  a  moment's  hesitation  Yolanda  turned 
quickly  to  me  and  said  :  — 

"  You  and  your  friend  may  sup  with  us  this  even 
ing  in  the  dining  room  of  our  hostess.  We  take 
supper  at  five." 

The  invitation  was  given  with  all  the  condescension 
of  a  noble  lady.  Twonette  ventured  :  — 

«  What  will  father  say,  Yolanda  ?  " 

"  I  can  guess  what  uncle  will  say,  but  we  will 
give  him  his  say  and  take  our  own  way.  Nonsense, 
Twonette,  if  we  are  to  journey  to  Peronne  with 
these  gentlemen,  our  acquaintance  with  them  cannot 
begin  too  soon.  Come,  Sir  Karl,  and  —  and  bring 
your  young  friend,  Sir  Maximilian." 

It  was  clear  to  my  mind  that,  without  my  young 
friend,  Sir  Maximilian,  I  should  not  have  had  the 
invitation.  Yolanda  then  turned  to  Franz  and  his 
silks,  and  I,  who  had  always  thought  myself  of  some 
importance,  was  dismissed  by  a  burgher  girl.  I 
soothed  my  vanity  with  the  thought  that  beauty  has 
its  own  prerogatives. 

Without  being  little,  Yolanda  was  small ;  without 


KNIGHTS-ERRANT  43 

nobility,  she  had  the  haute  mien.  But  over  and  above 
all  she  had  a  sweet  charm  of  manner,  a  saucy  gentle 
ness,  and  a  kindly  grace  that  made  her  irresistible. 
When  she  smiled,  one  felt  like  thanking  God  for  the 
benediction. 

That  evening  at  five  o'clock  Max  and  I  supped 
with  Frau  Franz.  The  good  frau  and  her  hus 
band  sat  at  either  end  of  the  table,  Castleman,  his 
daughter,  and  Yolanda  occupied  one  side,  while  I  sat 
by  Max  opposite  them.  If  Castleman  had  offered 
objection  to  the  arrangement,  he  had  been  silenced. 

I  was  especially  anxious  that  Max  should  devote 
himself  to  Twonette,  but,  as  I  had  expected,  Yolanda's 
attractions  were  far  too  great  to  be  resisted.  There 
was  a  slight  Walloon  accent  in  her  French  and 
German  (we  all  spoke  both  languages)  that  gave  to 
her  voice  an  exquisite  cadence.  I  spoke  to  her  in 
Walloonish,  and  she  was  so  pleased  that  she  seemed 
to  nestle  toward  me.  In  the  midst  of  an  animated 
conversation  she  suddenly  became  silent,  and  I  saw 
her  watching  Max's  hand.  I  thought  she  was  looking 
at  his  ring.  It  was  the  one  that  Mary  of  Burgundy 
had  given  him. 


CHAPTER   III 

YOLANDA    THE    SORCERESS 

SEVERAL  days  passed,  during  which  we  saw 
the  Castlemans  frequently.  One  evening  after 
supper,  when  we  were  all  sitting  in  the  parlor, 
Yolanda  enticed  Max  to  an  adjoining  room,  on  the 
excuse  of  showing  him  an  ancient  piece  of  tapestry. 
When  it  had  been  examined,  she  seated  herself  on  a 
window  bench  and  indicated  a  chair  for  Max  near  by. 
Among  much  that  was  said  I  quote  the  following 
from  memory,  as  Max  told  me  afterward  :  — 

"  So  you  are  from  Italy,  Sir  Max  ? "  queried 
Yolanda,  stealing  a  glance  at  his  ring. 

"Yes,"  returned  Max. 

"  From  what  part,  may  I  ask  ?  "  continued  the  girl, 
with  a  slight  inclination  of  her  head  to  one  side  and 
a  flash  from  beneath  the  preposterously  long  lashes 
toward  his  hand. 

«  From  —  from  Rome,"  stammered  Max,  halting  at 
even  so  small  a  lie. 

"  Ah,  Sir  Karl  said  you  were  from  Lombardy," 
answered  the  girl. 

"  Well  —  that  is  —  originally,  perhaps,  I  was,"  he 
returned. 

44 


YOLANDA   THE   SORCERESS  45 

"  Perhaps  your  family  lives  in  both  places  ? "  she 
asked  very  seriously. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  of  it,"  he  responded. 

"  Were  you  born  in  both  places  ?  "  asked  Yolanda, 
without  the  shadow  of  a  smile.  Max  was  tMnking 
of  the  little  lie  he  was  telling  and  did  not  analyze  her 
question. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  in  simple  honesty,  "  you  see  I 
could  not  be  born  in  two  places.  That  would  be 
impossible." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be,"  replied  Yolanda,  with  per 
fect  gravity.  Max  was  five  years  her  senior,  but  he 
was  a  boy,  while  she  had  the  self-command  of  a 
quick-witted  woman,  though  she  still  retained  the 
saucy  impertinence  of  childhood.  Slow-going,  guile 
less  Max  began  to  suspect  a  lurking  intention  on 
Yolanda's  part  to  quiz  him. 

"  Did  not  Sir  Karl  say  something  about  your  hav 
ing  been  born  in  Styria  ?  "  asked  the  girl,  glancing 
slyly  at  the  ring. 

"  No,  he  did  not,"  answered  Max,  emphatically. 
"  I  suppose  I  was  born  in  Rome  —  no,  I  mean  Lom- 
bardy  —  but  it  cannot  matter  much  to  you,  Fraulein, 
where  I  was  born  if  I  do  not  wish  to  tell." 

The  direct  course  was  as  natural  to  Max  as  breath 
ing.  The  girl  was  startled  by  his  abruptness.  After 
a  pause  she  continued  :  — 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  not  ashamed  of  your  birthplace, 
and  —  " 


46  YOLANDA 

He  interrupted  her  sharply  :  — 
"  I  also  am  sure  I  am  not  ashamed  of  it." 
"  If  you  had   permitted    me    to    finish,"    she    said 
quietly,  "  you  would  have  had  no  need  to  speak  so 
sharply.     I  spoke  seriously.     I  wanted  to  say  that  I 
am  sure  you  have  no  reason  to  feel  ashamed  of  your 
birthplace,  and  that  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  asked 
a  question  that  you  evidently  do  not  want  to  answer. 
Uncle  says  if  my  curiosity  were  taken  from  me,  there 
would  be  nothing  left  but  my  toes." 

Her  contrition  melted  Max  at  once,  and  he  said :  — 
"I  will  gladly  tell  you,  Fraulein,  if  you  want  to 
know.     I  was  born  —  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  interrupted,  "  you  shall  not  tell  me. 
I  will  leave  you  at  once  and  see  you  no  more  if  you 
do.  Besides,  there  is  no  need  to  tell  me ;  I  already 
know.  I  am  a  sorceress,  a  witch.  I  regret  to  make 
the  confession,  but  it  is  true ;  I  am  a  witch." 

"  I  believe  you  are,"  answered  Max,  looking  at  her 
admiringly  and  seating  himself  beside  her  on  the 
window  bench.  He  had  learned  from  Gertrude  of 
Augsburg  and  many  other  burgher  girls  that  certain 
pleasantries  were  more  objectionable  to  them  in  theory 
than  in  practice ;  but  this  burgher  girl  rose  to  her 
feet  at  his  approach  and  seemed  to  grow  a  head 
taller  in  an  instant.  He  quietly  took  his  old  place 
and  she  took  hers.  She  continued  as  if  unconscious 
of  what  had  happened :  — 


YOLANDA   THE   SORCEKESS  47 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  sorceress."  Then  she  drew  her  face 
close  to  Max,  and,  gazing  fixedly  into  his  eyes,  said 
solemnly  : — 

"  I  can  look  into  a  person's  eyes  and  know  if  they 
are  telling  me  the  truth.  I  can  tell  their  fortunes  — 
past,  present,  and  future.  I  can  tell  them  where  they 
were  born.  I  can  tell  them  the  history  of  anything 
of  value  they  have.  Their  jewellery,  their  —  " 

"  Tell  me  any  one  of  those  things  concerning  my 
self,"  interrupted  Max,  suddenly  alive  with  interest. 

"  No,  it  is  too  great  a  strain  upon  me,"  answered 
the  girl,  with  amusing  gravity. 

"  I  entreat  you,"  said  Max,  laughing,  though  deeply 
interested.  "  I  believe  you  can  do  what  you  say.  I 
beg  you  to  show  me  your  skill  in  only  one  instance." 

The  girl  gently  refused,  begging  Max  not  to  tempt 
her. 

"  No,  no,  I  cannot,"  she  said,  « good  Father  Bran- 
tome  has  told  me  it  is  sinful.  I  must  not." 

Half  in  jest  but  all  in  earnest,  Max  begged  her  to 
try  ;  and,  after  a  great  deal  of  coaxing,  she  reluctantly 
consented  to  give  a  very  small  exhibition  of  her 
powers.  Covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  re 
mained  for  the  space  of  a  minute  as  if  in  deep 
thought.  Then,  making  a  series  of  graceful  and 
fantastic  passes  in  the  air  with  her  hands,  as  if 
invoking  a  familiar  spirit,  she  said  in  low,  solemn 
tones :  — 


48  YOLANDA 

"  You  may  now  sit  by  me,  Sir  Max.  My  words 
must  not  be  heard  by  any  ears  save  yours." 

Max  seated  himself  beside  the  girl. 

"  Give  me  your  word  that  you  will  tell  no  one 
what  I  am  about  to  do  and  say,"  she  said. 

"  I  so  promise,"  answered  Max,  beginning  to  feel 
that  the  situation  was  almost  uncanny. 

"  Now,  place  in  my  hand  some  jewel  or  valued 
article  of  which  I  may  speak,"  she  said. 

Excepting  his  sword  and  dagger,  Max  owned  but 
one  article  of  value  —  the  ring  Mary  of  Burgundy  had 
given  him.  He  hesitatingly  drew  it  from  his  finger 
and  placed  it  in  the  girl's  hand.  She  examined  it 
carefully,  and  said  :  — 

"  Now,  give  me  your  hand,  Sir  Max."  Her  hand 
was  not  much  larger  than  a  big  snowflake  in  early 
spring,  Max  thought,  and  it  was  completely  lost  to 
sight  when  his  great  fingers  closed  over  it.  The  vel 
vety  softness  of  the  little  hand  sent  a  thrill  through 
his  veins,  and  the  firm,  unyielding  strength  of  his 
clasp  was  a  new,  delicious  sensation  to  the  girl. 
Startled  by  it,  she  made  a  feeble  effort  to  withdraw 
her  hand;  but  Max  clasped  it  firmly,  and  she  sur 
rendered.  After  a  short  silence  she  placed  the  ring 
to  her  forehead,  closed  her  eyes,  and  drew  her  face  so 
near  to  Max  that  he  felt  her  warm  breath  on  his 
cheek.  Max  was  learning  a  new  lesson  in  life  — 
the  greatest  of  all.  She  spoke  in  soft  whispers, 


YOLANDA  THE   SORCERESS  49 

slowly  dropping  her  words  one  by  one  in  sepulchral 
tones  :  — 

"  What  —  do  —  I  see  —  surely  I  am  wrong.  No — 
I  see  clearly  —  a  lady  —  a  great  lady  —  a  princess. 
She  smiles  upon  a  man.  He  is  tall  and  young.  His 
face  is  fair ;  his  hair  falls  in  long,  bright  curls  like 
yours.  She  gives  him  this  ring ;  she  asks  him  to  be 
her  husband  —  no  —  surely  a  modest  maiden  would 
not  do  that."  She  stopped  suddenly,  snatched  her 
hand  from  Max,  returned  the  ring  and  cried,  "  No 
more,  no  more  !  " 

She  tossed  her  hands  in  the  air,  as  if  to  drive 
off  the  spirits,  and  without  another  word  ran  to 
the  parlor  laughing,  and  threw  herself  on  Uncle 
Castleman's  knee.  Max  slowly  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross  and  followed  the  little  enchantress. 
She  had  most  effectually  imposed  on  him.  He  was 
inclined  to  believe  that  she  had  seen  the  ring  or 
had  heard  of  it  in  Burgundy  before  the  princess  sent 
it ;  but  Yolanda  could  have  been  little  more  than 
a  child  at  that  time  —  three  years  before.  Perhaps  she 
was  hardly  past  fourteen,  and  one  of  her  class  would 
certainly  not  be  apt  to  know  of  the  ring  that  had 
been  sent  by  the  princess.  She  might  have  received 
her  information  from  Twonette,  who,  Franz  said,  was 
acquainted  with  Mary  of  Burgundy ;  but  even  had 
Yolanda  heard  of  the  ring,  the  fact  would  not  have 
helped  her  to  know  it. 


60  YOLANDA 

After  our  first  evening  with  the  Castlemans  we 
got  on  famously  together.  True,  Max  and  I  felt  that 
we  were  making  great  concessions,  and  I  do  not  doubt 
that  we  showed  it  in  many  unconscious  words  and 
acts.  This  certainly  was  true  of  Max  ;  but  Yolanda's 
unfailing  laughter,  though  at  times  it  was  provoking, 
soon  brought  him  to  see  that  too  great  a  sense  of 
dignity  was  at  times  ridiculous.  He  could  not,  how 
ever,  always  forget  that  he  was  a  Hapsburg  while  she 
was  a  burgher  girl,  and  his  good  memory  got  him 
many  a  keen  little  thrust  from  her  saucy  tongue.  If 
Max  resented  her  sauciness,  she  ran  away  from  him 
with  the  full  knowledge  that  he  would  miss  her. 
She  was  much  surer  that  she  pleased  and  delighted 
him  than  he  was  that  he  pleased  her,  though  of  the 
latter  fact  she  left,  in  truth,  little  room  for  doubt. 

Max  was  very  happy.  He  had  never  before  known 
a  playmate.  But  here  in  Basel  the  good  Franz  and 
his  frau,  Yolanda,  Twonette,  fat  old  Castleman,  and 
myself  were  all  boys  and  girls  together,  snatching  the 
joys  of  life  fresh  from  the  soil  of  mother  earth,  close 
to  which  we  lived  in  rustic  simplicity. 

Since  we  had  left  Styria,  our  life,  with  all  its  hard 
ships,  had  been  a  delight  to  Max,  but  it  was  also  a 
series  of  constantly  repeated  shocks.  If  the  shocks 
came  too  rapidly  and  too  hard,  he  solaced  his  bruised 
dignity  with  the  thought  that  those  who  were  unduly 
familiar  with  him  did  not  know  that  he  was  the  heir 


YOLANDA  THE   SORCERESS  61 

of  the  House  of  Hapsburg.  So  day  by  day  he  grew 
to  enjoy  the  nestling  comfort  of  a  near-by  friend.  This, 
I  grieve  to  say,  was  too  plainly  seen  in  his  relations 
with  Yolanda,  for  she  unquestionably  nestled  toward 
him.  She  made  no  effort  to  conceal  her  delight  in 
his  companionship,  though  she  most  adroitly  kept  him 
at  a  proper  distance.  If  she  observed  a  growing  con 
fidence  in  Max,  she  quickly  nipped  it  by  showing  him 
that  she  enjoyed  my  companionship  or  that  of  old 
Franz  just  as  much.  On  such  occasions  Max's  dignity 
and  vanity  required  balm. 

«  Oh,  Karl,"  he  said  to  me  one  evening  while  we 
were  preparing  for  bed,  "  it  seems  to  me  I  have  just 
wakened  to  life,  or  have  just  got  out  of  prison.  No 
man  can  be  happy  on  a  pinnacle  above  the  intimate 
friendships  of  his  fellow-man  and  —  and  woman.'' 

"  Yes,  <  and  woman.'     Well  put,  Max,"  said  I. 

Max  did  not  notice  my  insinuation,  but  con 
tinued  :  — 

"  I  have  lived  longer  since  knowing  these  lowly 
friends  than  in  all  the  years  of  my  life  in  Styria. 
Karl,  you  have  spoiled  a  good,  stiff-jointed  Hapsburg, 
but  you  have  made  a  man.  If  nothing  more  comes 
of  this  journey  into  the  world  than  I  have  already 
had,  I  am  your  debtor  for  life.  What  would  my 
dear  old  father  and  mother  say  if  they  should  see  me 
and  know  the  life  I  am  leading  ?  In  their  eyes  I 
should  be  disgraced  —  covered  with  shame." 


52  TOLA  NBA 

"  When  you  go  back  to  Hapsburg,"  I  said,  "  you 
can  again  take  up  your  old,  petrified  existence  and 
eat  your  husks  of  daily  adulation.  You  will  soon 
again  find  satisfaction  in  the  bended  knee,  and  will 
insist  that  those  who  approach  you  bow  deferentially 
to  your  ancestors." 

"  I  shall,  of  course,  return  to  Hapsburg,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  my  fate,  and  no  man  can  change  the  destiny 
to  which  he  was  born.  I  must  also  endure  the  bow 
ing  and  the  adulation.  Men  shall  honor  my  ances 
tors  and  respect  in  me  their  descendant,  but  I  shall 
never  again  be  without  friends  if  it  be  in  my  power 
to  possess  them.  As  I  have  said,  that  is  difficult  for 
one  placed  above  his  fellow-man." 

"  There  is  the  trouble  with  men  of  your  degree," 
I  answered.  "  Friends  are  not  like  castles,  cities, 
and  courtly  servitors.  Those,  indeed,  one  may 
really  own  ;  but  we  possess  our  friends  only  as  they 
possess  us.  Like  a  mirror,  a  friend  gives  us  only 
what  we  ourselves  give.  No  king  is  great  enough 
to  produce  his  own  image  unless  he  stands  before 
the  glass." 

"  Teach  me,  Karl,  to  stand  before  the  glass,"  said 
Max,  plaintively. 

"  You  are  before  it  now,  my  dear  boy,"  I  answered. 
"  These  new  friends  are  giving  you  only  what  you 
give  them.  With  me,  you  have  always  been  before 
the  glass." 


YOLANDA  THE   SORCERESS  53 

"  That  has  been  true,"  said  Max,  "  ever  since  the 
first  day  you  entered  Hapsburg.  Do  you  remember  ? 
I  climbed  on  your  knee  and  said,  '  You  have  a  big, 
ugly  nose ! '  Mother  admonished  me,  and  I  quickly 
made  amends  by  saying,  '  But  I  like  you.'  r 

"  I  well  remember,  Max,"  I  responded.  "  That 
day  was  one  of  mutual  conquest.  That  is  the  prime 
condition  of  friendship  :  mutual  conquest  and  mutual 
surrender.  But  you  must  have  other  friends  than  me. 
You  see  I  am  not  jealous.  You  must  have  friends  of 
your  own  age." 

"  I  now  realize  why  I  have  hungered  all  my  life," 
said  Max,  "  though  I  have  never  before  known :  I 
longed  for  friends.  Is  it  not  strange  that  I  should 
find  them  among  these  low-born  people  ?  It  surely 
cannot  be  wrong  for  me  to  live  as  I  do,  though  father 
and  mother  would  doubtless  deem  it  criminal." 

"  These  good  burgher  folk  are  making  you  better 
and  broader  and  stronger,"  I  answered.  "  But  there 
is  one  thing  I  want  to  suggest :  you  are  devoting  too 
much  of  your  time  to  the  brown-eyed  little  maid. 
You  must  seek  favor  with  Tworiette.  She  is  harm 
less,  and  through  her  you  may,  by  some  freak  of 
fortune,  reach  the  goal  of  your  desires.  With  the 
prestige  of  your  family  and  the  riches  of  Burgundy, 
you  may  become  the  most  powerful  man  in  the 
world,  save  the  Pope." 

"  Perhaps  Fraulein  Yolanda  is  also  acquainted  with 


64  YOLANDA 

the  Princess  Mary,"  responded  Max,  half  reluctantly 
speaking  Mary's  name. 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  she  is  not.  I  asked  her  if  she 
were.  She  laughed  at  the  suggestion,  and  said  :  <  Oh, 
no,  no,  the  princess  is  a  very  proud  person  and  very 
exclusive.  She  knows  but  one  burgher  girl  in 
Peronne,  I  am  told.  That  one  is  Twonette,  and  I 
believe  she  treats  her  most  ungraciously  at  times.  I 
would  not  endure  her  snubs  and  haughty  ways  as 
Twonette  does.  I  seek  the  friendship  of  no  princess. 
Girls  of  my  own  class  are  good  enough  for  me. 
"  Twonette,  fetch  me  a  cup  of  wine."  "  Twonette, 
thread  my  needle."  "  Twonette,  you  are  fat  and 
lazy  and  sleep  too  much."  "  Twonette,  stand  up." 
"  Twonette,  sit  down."  Faugh !  I  tell  you  I  want 
none  of  these  princesses,  no,  not  one  of  them.  I  hate 
princesses,  and  I  tell  you  I  doubly  hate  this  —  this  — ' 
She  did  not  say  whom  she  doubly  hated.  She  is  a 
forward  little  witch,  Max.  She  laughed  merrily  at 
my  questions  concerning  the  princess,  and  asked  me 
if  we  were  going  to  Burgundy  to  storm  Mary's  heart. 
'  Who  is  to  win  her  ? '  she  asked.  «  You,  Sir  Karl, 
or  Sir  Max  ?  It  must  be  you.  Sir  Max  is  too  slow 
and  dignified  even  to  think  of  scaling  the  walls  of  a 
maiden  fortress.  It  must  be  you,  Sir  Karl.'  The 
saucy  little  elf  rose  from  her  chair,  bowed  low  before 
me  and  said,  <  I  do  liege  homage  to  the  future  Duke 
of  Burgundy.'  Then  she  danced  across  the  room, 


YOLANDA  THE   SORCERESS  55 

laughing  at  my  discomfiture.  She  is  charming,  Max, 
but  remember  Gertrude  the  Conqueror  !  Such  trifling 
affairs  are  well  enough  to  teach  a  man  the  a-b-c  of 
life,  but  one  with  your  destiny  ahead  of  him  must 
not  remain  too  long  in  his  alphabet.  Such  affairs 
are  for  boys,  Max,  for  boys." 

"  Do  not  fear  for  me,  Karl,"  answered  Max,  laugh 
ingly.  "  We  are  not  apt  to  take  hurt  from  dangers 
we  see." 

"  Do  you  clearly  see  the  danger  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  I  clearly  see,"  he  responded.  "  I  admire  Fraulein 
Yolanda  as  I  have  never  admired  any  other  woman. 
I  respect  her  as  if  she  were  a  princess;  but  one  of  the 
penalties  of  my  birth  is  that  I  may  not  think  of  her 
nor  of  one  of  her  class.  She  is  not  for  me ;  she  is  a 
burgher  maiden  —  out  of  my  reach.  For  that  reason 
I  feel  that  I  should  respect  her." 

The  attitude  of  Max  toward  Yolanda  was  a  real 
triumph  of  skill  and  adroitness  over  inherited  con 
victions  and  false  education.  She  had  brought  him 
from  condescension  to  deference  solely  by  the  magic 
of  her  art.  Or  am  I  wrong  ?  Was  it  her  artless- 
ness  ?  Perhaps  it  was  her  artful  artlessness,  since 
every  girl-baby  is  born  with  a  modicum  of  that 
dangerous  quality. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Karl,"  added  Max.  "  I  may 
underrate  the  power  of  this  girl.  As  you  have  said, 
she  is  a  little  witch.  But  beneath  her  laughter  there 


56  YOLANDA 

is  a  rare  show  of  tenderness  and  strength,  which  at 
times  seems  pathetic  and  almost  elfin.  You  are 
right,  Karl.  I  will  devote  myself  to  Twonette  here 
after.  She  is  like  a  feather-bed  in  that  she  cannot 
be  injured  by  a  blow,  neither  can  she  give  one ;  but 
Yolanda  —  ah,  Karl,  she  is  like  a  priceless  jewel  that 
may  be  shattered  by  a  blow  and  may  blind  one  by 
its  radiance." 

But  Max's  devotion  to  Twonette  was  a  failure. 
She  was  certainly  willing,  but  Yolanda  would  have 
none  of  it,  and  with  no  equivocation  gave  every 
one  to  understand  as  much.  Still,  she  held  Max 
at  a  respectful  distance.  In  fact,  this  Yolanda  han 
dled  us  all  as  a  juggler  tosses  his  balls.  Max  must 
not  be  too  attentive  to  her,  and  he  must  not  be 
at  all  attentive  to  Twonette.  In  this  arrangement 
Twonette  acquiesced.  She  would  not  dare  to  lift 
her  eyes  to  one  upon  whom  Yolanda  was  looking ! 

Here  was  illustrated  the  complete  supremacy  of 
mind  over  matter.  Castleman,  Twonette,  Franz  and 
his  frau,  Max  and  I,  all  danced  when  the  tiny  white 
hand  of  Yolanda  pulled  the  strings.  A  kiss  or  a  saucy 
nod  for  Castleman  or  Twonette,  a  smile  or  a  frown 
for  Max  and  me,  were  the  instruments  wherewith  she 
worked.  Deftly  she  turned  each  situation  as  she  de 
sired.  Max  made  frequent  efforts  to  obtain  a  private 
moment  with  her,  that  he  might  ask  a  few  questions 
concerning  her  wonderful  knowledge  of  his  ring  — 


67 

they  had  been  burning  him  since  the  night  of  her 
sorcery  —  but,  though  she  knew  quite  well  his  desire 
to  question  her,  she  gave  him  no  opportunity. 

During  the  time  that  Castleman  was  buying  his 
silks,  the  members  of  our  little  party  grew  rapidly  in 
friendship.  In  culture,  education,  and  refinement, 
the  Castlemans  were  far  above  any  burghers  I  had 
ever  known.  Franz  and  his  wife,  though  good,  sim 
ple  people,  were  not  at  all  in  Castleman's  class. 
They  felt  their  inferiority,  and  did  not  go  abroad 
with  us,  though  we  supped  daily  with  them.  Each 
evening  supper  was  a  little  fete  followed  by  a  romp 
of  amusement,  songs,  and  childish  games  in  the  frau's 
great  parlor. 

The  Castlemans,  Max,  and  I  made  several  excur 
sions  into  the  mountains.  Yolanda  and  Twonette 
were  in  ecstasy  at  the  mountain  views,  which  were  so 
vividly  in  contrast  with  the  lowlands  of  Burgundy. 

"  These  mountains  are  beautiful,"  said  patriotic 
Yolanda,  "but  our  lowlands  raise  bread  to  feed  the 
hungry." 

On  one  occasion  we  rode  to  the  Falls  of  Schaff- 
hausen,  and  often  we  were  out  upon  the  river.  Dur 
ing  these  expeditions  Yolanda  adroitly  kept  our  little 
party  together,  and  Max  could  have  no  private  word 
with  her. 

I  had  never  been  so  happy  as  I  was  during  the 
fortnight  at  Basel  while  Castleman  was  buying  silk. 


68  YOLANDA 

I  was  almost  a  child  again ;  my  fifty  odd  years 
seemed  to  fall  from  me  as  an  eagle  sheds  his  plumes 
in  spring.  We  were  all  happy  and  merry  as  a  May-day, 
and  our  joyousness  was  woven  from  the  warp  and 
woof  of  Yolanda's  gentle,  laughing  nature.  With 
out  her,  our  life  would  have  been  comfortable  but 
commonplace. 

During  all  this  time  Max  pondered  in  vain  upon 
the  remarkable  manner  in  which  Yolanda  had  divined 
the  secret  of  his  ring.  He  longed  to  question  her, 
but  she  would  not  be  questioned  until  she  was  ready 
to  answer. 

On  a  certain  morning  near  the  close  of  our  sojourn 
in  Basel,  Max,  after  many  elephantine  manoeuvres, 
obtained  Yolanda's  promise  to  walk  out  with  him 
to  a  near-by  hill  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  a  Sabbath 
day,  and  every  burgher  maiden  in  Basel  that  boasted 
a  sweetheart  would  be  abroad  with  him  in  the  sun 
shine.  Max  could  not  help  feeling  that  it  was  most 
condescending  in  him,  a  prince,  to  walk  out  with 
Yolanda,  a  burgher  maiden.  Should  any  one  from 
Styria  meet  him,  he  would  certainly  sink  into  the 
ground,  though  in  a  certain  way  the  girl's  reluctance 
seemed  to  place  the  condescension  with  her. 

After  dinner,  which  we  all  took  together  that  day, 
she  put  him  off  with  excuses  until  drowsy  Uncle 
Castleman  had  taken  himself  off  for  a  nap.  Then 
Yolanda  quickly  said :  — 


YOLANDA   THE   SORCERESS  69 

"  Fetch  me  my  hood,  Twonette.  I  shall  not  need 
a  cloak.  I  am  going  to  walk  out  with  Sir  Max." 

Twonette  instantly  obeyed,  as  if  she  were  a  tire 
woman  to  a  princess,  and  soon  returned  wearing  her 
own  hood  and  carrying  Yolanda's. 

"  Ah,  but  you  are  not  to  come  with  us,"  said  Yo- 
landa.  She  was  ready  to  give  Max  the  opportunity 
he  desired,  and  would  give  it  generously. 

«But  —  but  what  will  father  say  ?  "  asked  Two 
nette,  uneasily. 

"  We  shall  learn  what  he  says  when  we  return. 
No  need  to  worry  about  that  now,"  answered  Yo- 
landa.  Twonette  took  off  her  hood. 

Max  and  Yolanda  climbed  the  hill,  and,  after 
a  little  demurring  on  the  girl's  part,  sat  down  on 
a  shelving  rock  at  a  point  where  the  river  view 
was  beautiful.  As  usual,  Yolanda  managed  the  con 
versation  to  suit  herself,  but  after  a  short  time  she 
permitted  Max  to  introduce  the  subject  on  which 
he  wished  to  talk. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  Fraulein,"  he  asked,  "  how  you 
were  enabled  to  know  the  history  of  my  ring  ?  I 
cannot  believe  you  are  what  you  said  —  a  sorceress 
—  a  witch." 

"  No,  no,"  she  answered  laughingly,  "  I  am  not 
a  sorceress." 

"  You  almost  made  me  believe  you  were,"  said 
Max,  "  but  I  am  slow  of  wit,  as  you  have  doubtless 


60  YOLANDA 

observed.  I  told  Sir  Karl  you  said  you  were  a  sor 
ceress,  and  he  said  —  " 

"  You  gave  me  your  word  you  would  not  tell !  " 
exclaimed  Yolanda. 

"  Neither  did  I  tell  aught  save  that  you  said  you 
were  a  sorceress.  He  laughed  and  said  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  what  did  he  say  ?  "  eagerly  queried  the 
girl. 

"He  said  —  I  am  sure  you  will  not  take  amiss 
what  he  said  ?  "  responded  Max. 

"  No,  no,  indeed  no !  Tell  me,"  she  demanded 
eagerly. 

"  He  said  you  were  a  witch,  if  brown  eyes,  dim 
pling  smiles,  and  girlish  beauty  could  make  one," 
answered  Max. 

"  Ah,  did  he  say  that  of  me  ? "  asked  the  girl, 
musingly.  After  a  pause  she  continued,  «  That  was 
kind  in  Sir  Karl  and  —  and  evidently  sincere."  After 
another  pause  devoted  to  revery  she  said :  "  Perhaps 
I  shall  be  his  friend  sometime  in  a  manner  he  little 
expects.  Even  the  friendship  of  a  helpless  burgher 
girl  is  not  to  be  despised.  But  he  is  wrong.  I  am 
not  beautiful,"  she  poutingly  continued.  "  Now  let 
us  examine  my  face."  She  laughed,  and  settled  her 
self  contentedly  upon  the  stone,  as  if  to  take  up  a 
serious  discussion.  "  I  often  do  so  in  the  mirror. 
Vain  ?  Of  course  I  am  !  " 

"  I  am  only  too  willing  to  examine  it,"  said  Max, 
laughingly. 


YOLANDA   THE   SORCERESS  61 

"My  mouth,"  she  said,  pursing  her  lips  and  lifting 
her  face  temptingly  for  his  inspection,  "  ni}^  mouth 
is  —  " 

"  Perfect,"  interrupted  Max. 

She  looked  surprised  and  said,  "Ah,  that  was 
nicely  spoken,  Little  Max,  and  quickly,  for  you." 

"  '  Little  Max ' !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man. 
"  Where  heard  you  that  name  ?  No  one  save  my 
mother  has  ever  used  it ;  no  one  but  Karl  and  my 
father  has  ever  heard  her  speak  the  words.  Did 
Karl  tell  you  of  it  ?  " 

"  Karl  did  not  tell  me,"  she  responded,  "  and  I 
never  heard  any  one  speak  the  name.  The  name  fits 
you  so  well  —  by  contraries  —  that  it  came  to  me, 
perhaps,  by  inspiration." 

"  That  hardly  seems  possible,"  returned  Max,  "  and 
your  knowledge  of  how  I  received  the  ring  is  more 
than  remarkable." 

"  Let  us  talk  about  my  face,"  said  the  girl,  full  of 
the  spirit  of  mischief,  and  wishing  to  put  off  the  dis 
cussion  of  the  ring.  "Now,  my  eyes,  of  which  Sir 
Karl  spoke  so  kindly,  are  —  " 

"  The  most  wonderful  in  the  world,"  interrupted 
Max.  "  They  are  brilliant  as  priceless  jewels,  fathom 
less  as  deep  water,  gentle  and  tender  as  —  " 

"  There,  there,  Little  Max,"  she  cried,  checking  with 
a  gesture  his  flow  of  unexpected  eloquence.  "  I  de 
clare!  you  are  not  so  slow  as  you  seem.  I  will  tell 


62  YOLANDA 

you  just  how  much  of  a  sorceress  I  am.  I  thought 
to  flatter  you  by  saying  a  great  lady  had  given  you 
the  ring,  and  lo,  I  was  right  unless  you  are  adroitly 
leading  me  to  believe  in  my  own  sorcery.  Is  she  a 
great  lady  ?  Come,  tell  me  the  story." 

She  unconsciously  moved  nearer  to  him  with  an  air 
of  pleasant  anticipation. 

"  Yes,  it  was  a  great  lady,  a  very  great  lady  who 
gave  me  the  ring,"  he  said  most  seriously. 

"  And  was  I  right  in  my  other  divination  ?  "  she 
asked,  looking  down  and  flushing  slightly.  "  Did  — 
did  she  wish  to  marry  you  ?  But  you  need  not 
answer  that  question." 

"  I  will  gladly  answer  it,"  returned  Max,  leaning 
forward,  resting  his  elbow  on  his  knees  and  looking 
at  the  ground  between  his  feet.  "  I  hoped  she  did. 
I  —  I  longed  for  it." 

"  Perhaps  she  possessed  vast  estates  ? "  asked  the 
girl,  a  slight  frown  gathering  on  her  brow. 

"  Yes,  she  possessed  vast  estates,"  said  Max,  "  but 
I  would  gladly  have  taken  her  penniless  save  for  the 
fact  that  I  am  very  poor,  and  that  she  would  suffer  for 
the  lack  of  luxuries  she  has  always  known." 

«  But  how  could  the  lady  have  felt  sure  you  were 
not  seeking  her  for  the  sake  of  her  estates  ?  "  asked 
Yolanda. 

"  She  could  not  know,"  answered  Max.  "  But  I 
sought  her  for  her  own  sake  arid  for  no  other 
reason." 


YOLANDA  THE   SORCERESS  63 

"  What  manner  of  person  was  she  ? "  asked 
Yolanda.  "  Was  she  dark  or  light,  short  or  tall, 
plain  of  feature  or  beautiful,  amiable  of  temper  or 
vixenish  ?  Was  she  like  any  one  you  have  ever 
seen  ?  " 

She  spoke  in  deep  earnest  and  looked  eagerly  up  to 
his  face. 

"  She  was  beautiful  of  feature,"  answered  Max. 
"  Her  eyes  and  her  hair  were  dark  as  yours  are.  She 
was  short  of  stature,  I  have  been  told." 

Yolanda  laughed  merrily :  "  I  declare,  Sir  Max, 
you  were  in  love  with  a  lady  you  had  never  seen.  It 
was  her  estate  you  loved." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Max,  earnestly.  "  I  ardently 
desired  —  " 

"  Perhaps  if  you  were  to  see  her,  your  enthusiasm 
would  vanish,"  said  Yolanda,  interrupting  him  almost 
sharply.  "My  magic  tells  me  she  is  a  squat  little 
creature,  with  a  wizened  face ;  her  eyes  are  sharp 
and  black,  and  her  nose  is  a-peak,  not  unlike  mine. 
That  she  is  sour  and  peevish  of  temper,  as  I  am, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  And,  although  she  be  great 
and  rich  as  the  Princess  of  Burgundy,  I  warrant  you 
she  is  not  one  whit  handsomer  nor  kinder  in  disposi 
tion  than  I." 

Max  started  on  hearing  Mary  of  Burgundy's  name, 
but  quickly  recovering  himself  said  :  — 

"  I  would   not  wish  her  better  than  you  in  any 


64  YOLANDA 

respect.  You  wrong  both  yourself  and  the  lady  to 
speak  as  you  do.  Those  who  know  her  say  the  lady 
has  not  her  like  in  all  the  world." 

A  soft  light  came  to  Yolanda's  face  as  he  spoke, 
and  she  answered  slowly :  — 

"  Doubtless  the  lady  had  like  news  of  you,  and  is 
curious  to  know  what  manner  of  man  you  are.  She 
too  may  have  dreamed  of  an  ideal." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  has  never  seen  me  ?  " 
asked  Max,  who  had  not  fully  caught  her  reply  when 
she  spoke  of  the  fact  that  he  had  never  seen  the 
lady  of  the  ring.  "  I  shall  surely  come  to  believe  you 
are  a  sorceress." 

"  No,  I  am  not,"  she  answered  emphatically.  "  You 
shall  carry  that  jest  no  further.  A  moment  since 
you  said  those  who  know  her  say  so  and  so,  and  you 
believed  she  was  short  of  stature.  Had  you  ever 
seen  the  lady,  you  would  know  if  she  were  tall  or 
short.  You  would  not  be  in  doubt  upon  so  impor 
tant  a  matter  as  the  stature  of  your  lady-love." 

The  reasoning  and  the  reasoner  were  so  irresistible 
that  Max  was  easily  satisfied. 

"  But  you  have  spoken  of  the  lady  as  in  the  past. 
I  hope  she  is  not  dead  ? "  asked  Yolanda. 

"  No,"  answered  Max,  gravely,  "  our  fathers  did  not 
agree.  That  is,  her  father  was  not  satisfied,  and  it 
all  came  to  nothing  save  a  —  a  heartache  for  me." 

It  was  well  that  Max  was  looking  at  the  ground 


YOLANDA   THE   SORCERESS  65 

when  she  turned  the  soft  radiance  of  her  eyes  upon 
him,  else  he  might  have  learned  too  much.  His 
modesty  and  honesty  in  admitting  frankly  that  the 
lady's  father  was  not  satisfied  with  the  match  pleased 
her,  and  she  sat  in  silence,  smiling  contentedly.  After 
a  time  she  turned  almost  fiercely  upon  him  :  — 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  should  do,  Sir  Max,  were  I 
in  your  place  ?  " 

"  What  would  you  do,  Fraulein  ?  "  queried  Max. 

"  I  would  show  the  lady  that  I  was  worthy  of 
her  by  winning  her,  even  though  she  were  on  a 
throne,  guarded  by  a  thousand  dragons.  I  am  a 
woman,  Sir  Max,  and  I  know  a  woman's  heart.  The 
heart  of  a  princess  is  first  the  heart  of  a  woman.  Be 
sure  the  lady  will  thank  you  and  will  reward  you 
if  you  fight  your  way  to  her  and  carry  her  off  against 
all  the  world." 

"  But  how  is  that  to  be  done,  Fraulein  ? "  asked 
Max,  carelessly.  In  truth,  Mary  of  Burgundy  was 
not  uppermost  in  his  heart  at  that  moment. 

"  That  is  for  a  man  to  say  and  for  a  man  to  do," 
she  responded.  "  A  woman  knows  only  how  to  wait 
and  to  long  for  one  who,  alas  !  may  never  come.  She 
will  wait  for  you,  Sir  Max,  and  when  you  come  to 
her,  she  will  place  her  hand  in  yours  and  go  with  you 
wherever  you  wish  to  take  her.  Of  this,  at  least,  my 
powers  of  sorcery  are  sufficient  to  assure  you.  Do 
not  fear !  do  not  fear  ! " 


66  YOLANDA 

She  spoke  earnestly,  as  if  from  the  depths  of  a 
personal  experience.  Her  eyes  glowed  with  the  light 
of  excitement  and  her  face  was  radiant.  Max  turned 
to  her  and  saw  all  this  beauty.  Then  he  gently  took 
her  hand  and  said  huskily  :  — 

"  If  I  thought  she  were  like  you,  Fraulein,  I  would 
gladly  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  to  win  from  her 
even  one  smile." 

"  No,  no,  Sir  Max,"  said  Yolanda,  withdrawing  her 
hand,  "  we  must  have  no  more  such  speeches  from 
you.  They  are  wrong  coming  from  one  of  your  de 
gree  to  a  burgher  girl  of  Peronne,  if  she  be  an  honest 
girl.  Our  stations  are  too  far  apart." 

"  That  is  true,  Fraulein,"  answered  Max,  sorrow 
fully,  "  but  I  mean  no  disrespect.  I  honor  you  as  if 
you  were  a  princess"  —  here  his  tones  took  energy 
and  emphasis  — "  but  I  meant  what  I  said,  Fraulein, 
I  meant  what  I  said,  and  though  I  shall  never  say  it 
again,  I  know  that  I  shall  mean  it  all  the  days  of  my 
life." 

The  expression  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  up  at  him 
was  one  of  mingled  pleasure  and  amusement.  It 
seemed  to  say,  "  Do  not  be  too  sure  that  you  will 
never  say  it  again,"  but  she  said  nothing.  After  a 
moment  she  suggested  :  — 

"  Shall  we  return,  Sir  Max  ?  "  They  rose,  and  as 
they  started  back  to  Basel  he  remarked :  — 

"  The  words  <  Little  Max '  on   your   lips  sounded 


YOLANDA  THE   SOECEEESS  67 

sweet  to  me,  Fraulein.  They  bring  home  to  me  the 
voice  of  my  mother,  and  though  I  should  not  care 
to  hear  another  speak  them,  still,  the  words  are  very 
pretty  on  your  lips,  and  I  like  them." 

Yolanda  glanced  quickly  up  to  him  with  radiant 
eyes.  He  caught  the  glance,  and  the  last  vestige  of 
his  ideal,  Mary  of  Burgundy,  left  his  heart,  driven 
out  by  the  very  real  little  enchantress  that  walked 
by  his  side. 


CHAPTER   IV 

DOWN    THE    RHINE    TO    BUKGUNDY 

I^TOTWITHSTANDING  the  idle,  happy  life  we 
•i-^l  were  leading,  I  was  anxious  to  begin  our  jour 
ney  to  Burgundy.  Just  what  would  —  or  could  — 
happen  when  we  should  reach  that  land  of  promise 

—  perhaps  I  should  say  of  no  promise  —  I  did  not 
know.     I  hoped  that  by  some  happy  turn  of  fortune 

—  perhaps  through  Twonette's  help  —  Max  might  be 
brought  to  meet  Mary  of  Burgundy.     I  had  all  faith 
in  his  ability  to  please  her,  or  any  woman,  but  what 
advantage   he    could    gain  by  winning  her  regard  I 
could    not   guess.      The    lady's   personal    preference 
would  cut  no  figure  in  the  choosing  of   a  husband. 
Her  father  would  do  that  for  her,  and  she  would  be 
powerless  against  the  will  of  a  man  whose  chief  im 
pulses  were    those    of   a    mad    bull.     This    arrogant 
duke,  without  so  much  as  a  formal  withdrawal,  had 
ignored  Duke  Frederick's   acceptance  and   had    con 
tracted    his    daughter's    hand    to    the    Dauphin   of 
France,    who    was    a    puny,    weak-minded    boy    of 
fourteen. 

Should  Max  and    I  go    to    Burgundy  and    say  to 

08 


DOWN  THE  RHINE  TO  BURGUNDY  69 

Charles,  "This  is  Maximilian  of  Styria,  to  whom 
you  offered  your  daughter  in  marriage,"  his  answer 
might  be  a  sword  thrust.  Should  the  duke  learn 
of  our  unbidden  presence  in  his  domain,  his  love  for 
making  enemies  would  probably  bring  us  into 
trouble.  Therefore,  though  I  ardently  wished  to 
begin  the  journey,  I  had  no  real  cause  to  hope  for 
good  results,  though  there  were  many 'reasons  to 
fear  the  outcome  of  our  adventures. 

One  may  well  ask  why  I  continued  in  a  course  so 
dangerous.  My  answer  is :  A  man  travels  the  road 
of  his  destiny.  The  Fates  sometimes  hunt  out  a  man 
for  their  purposes  and  snatch  him  from  his  hiding- 
place  in  the  by-ways,  but  they  usually  choose  from 
the  scenes  of  great  events  their  victims  or  their  favor 
ites.  The  man  who  fears  to  be  their  victim  is  sel 
dom  chosen  for  their  favorite.  I  should  rather  be 
their  victim  than  be  overlooked ;  and  what  I  should 
have  chosen  for  myself  I  desired  for  Max.  I  had  no 
future  save  in  him ;  I  had  been  overlooked  in  the 
by-ways. 

At  the  time  of  our  journeying  all  Europe  turned 
on  a  Burgundian  pivot,  and  the  Fates  were  busy  in 
that  land.  It  was  the  stage  of  the  world,  on  which 
the  strong,  the  great,  and  the  enterprising  of  man 
kind  were  playing ;  and  I  hoped  that  Max,  who  was 
strong  and  enterprising,  would  find  his  part  in  this 
Burgundian  drama.  I  was  willing  to  risk  sacrificing 


70  YOLANDA 

him,  though  he  was  dearer  to  me  than  the  blood  of 
my  heart,  if  I  might  stand  even  a  small  chance  to 
make  him  great. 

At  strange  variance  with  my  philosophy,  I  had 
faith  in  Max's  luck.  It  was  more  than  faith ;  it  was 
a  fixed,  intuitive  conviction  that  he  would  win.  For 
these  reasons,  all  growing  out  of  what  I  felt  rather 
than  what  I  reasoned,  we  continued  our  dangerous 
and  apparently  useless  journey.  When  a  man  feels 
himself  led  by  an  unseen  hand,  he  should  gladly  fol 
low.  There  is  an  intuition  that  is  better  than  reason. 

One  bright  morning  in  May  we  began  our  journey 
down  the  Rhine.  My  fears  had  no  place  in  Max's 
heart,  and  his  self-confidence  was  to  me  a  harbinger 
of  good  fortune.  A  man  may  do  anything  that  he 
knows  he  can  do ;  failure  never  disappoints  him 
who  expects  it. 

We  left  Basel  by  the  west  gate  and  took  the  road 
for  Strasburg,  leading  down  the  west  bank  of  the 
Rhine.  That  was  not  the  most  direct  route  to  Pe- 
ronne,  but  it  was  the  safest  because  of  the  numerous 
river  towns  wherein  we  might  lie  safely  by  night. 
The  robber  barons  whom  we  had  to  fear  along  the 
river  were  at  least  not  pilfering  vagabonds,  such  as 
we  should  meet  across  country.  Against  the  open 
attack  of  a  brave  foe  we  felt  that  we  could  make  a 
good  defence.  Our  fighting  force  consisted  of  Max, 


DOWN   THE   KHINE  TO   BURGUNDY  71 

myself,  and  two  lusty  squires.  We  had  also  a  half- 
score  of  men  who  led  the  sumpter  mules. 

Castleman  had  purchased  two  beautiful  chargers  in 
Basel,  pretending  that  he  wished  to  take  them  to 
Peronne  for  sale.  He  asked  Max  to  ride  one  and 
offered  the  other  for  my  use.  I  was  sure  that  his 
only  reason  for  buying  the  horses  was  his  desire  to 
present  them  to  us,  which  he  afterward  did.  Max 
named  his  charger  "  Night,"  because  of  its  spotless 
coat  of  black.  Yolanda  rode  a  beautiful  white  mare 
which  we  re-christened  "  Day."  Castleman  bestrode 
an  ambling  Flemish  bay,  almost  as  fat  as  its  master 
and  quite  as  good-natured,  which,  because  of  its  slow 
ness,  Yolanda  dubbed  "Last  Week." 

We  travelled  slowly  down  the  Rhine,  enjoying  the 
scenery  and  filling  our  hearts  with  the  sunshine  of 
the  soft  spring  days.  Our  cautious  merchant  so 
arranged  our  lodging-places  that  we  were  never  on  the 
road  after  dark.  His  system  caused  much  delay,  as 
we  often  rested  a  half-day  in  a  town  that  we  might 
be  able  to  lodge  there  over  night.  In  this  deliberate 
manner  of  proceeding,  life  was  a  sweet,  lazy  holiday, 
and  our  journey  was  like  a  May  outing.  We  were  all 
very  happy  —  almost  ominously  so. 

After  the  explanation  between  Max  and  Yolanda 
on  the  hill  at  Basel  she  made  no  effort  to  avoid  him, 
and  he  certainly  did  not  avoid  her.  They  both  evi 
dently  rested  on  his  remark  that  he  would  never 


72  YOLANDA 

again  speak  upon  a  certain  subject.  They  fully  un 
derstood  each  other's  position. 

Max  knew  that  between  him  and  the  burgher 
maiden  there  could  be  no  thought  of  marriage.  She, 
it  seemed,  was  equally  aware  of  that  fact.  All  that 
he  had  been  taught  to  value  in  life  —  father,  mother, 
family  and  position,  his  father's  subjects,  who  would 
one  day  be  his,  his  father's  throne,  on  which  he  would 
one  day  sit  —  stood  between  him  and  Yolanda.  They 
stood  between  him  and  the  achievement  of  any 
desire  purely  personal  to  himself  and  not  conducive 
to  the  welfare  of  his  state.  He  felt  that  he  did  not 
belong  to  himself ;  that  his  own  happiness  was  never 
to  be  considered.  He  belonged  to  his  house,  his  peo 
ple,  and  his  ancestors. 

Max  had  not  only  been  brought  up  with  that  idea 
as  the  chief  element  in  his  education,  but  he  had 
also  inherited  it  from  two  score  generations  of  men 
and  women  that  had  learned,  believed,  and  taught 
the  same  lesson.  We  may  by  effort  efface  the  marks 
of  our  environment,  but  those  we  inherit  are  bred  in 
the  bone.  Yolanda  was  not  for  Max.  He  could  not 
control  his  heart ;  it  took  its  inheritance  of  unbid 
den  passion  from  a  thousand  scores  of  generations 
which  had  lived  and  died  and  learned  their  lesson  cen 
turies  before  the  House  of  Hapsburg  began ;  but  he 
could  control  his  lips  and  his  acts. 

With   Max's   growing    love    for   Yolanda   came   a 


DOWN  THE   KHIKE   TO   BURGUNDY  73 

knightly  reverence  which  was  the  very  breath  of  the 
chivalry  that  he  had  sworn  to  uphold.  This  spirit 
of  reverence  the  girl  was  quick  to  observe,  and  he 
lost  nothing  by  it  in  her  esteem.  At  times  I  could 
see  that  this  reverential  attitude  of  Max  almost  sobered 
her  spirits ;  to  do  so  completely  would  have  been  as 
impossible  as  to  dam  the  current  of  a  mountain 
stream. 

On  the  evening  of  our  first  day  out  of  Basel  we 
were  merrily  eating  our  suppers  in  a  village  where  we 
had  halted  for  the  night,  when  I  remarked  that  I  had 
met  a  man,  while  strolling  near  the  river,  who  had 
said  that  war  was  imminent  between  Burgundy  and 
Switzerland.  My  remark  immediately  caught  Yo- 
landa's  sharp  attention. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  we  left  Switzerland  none  too  soon. 
This  man  tells  me,  on  what  authority  I  know  not, 
that  a  herald  will  soon  be  sent  by  Duke  Charles 
carrying  defiance  to  the  Swiss.  What  of  value  the 
duke  expects  to  obtain  from  barren  Switzerland  out 
side  of  Basel,  I  do  not  know.  Fighting  for  fighting's 
sake  is  poor  sport." 

"  Forbear  your  wise  saws,  Sir  Karl,  and  tell  me 
what  the  man  said,"  demanded  Yolanda. 

"  He  told  me,"  I  replied,  "  that  he  had  heard  the 
news  at  Metz,  and  that  it  was  supposed  Duke  Rene 
would  muster  his  forces  in  Lorraine  and  turn  them 
against  Burgundy  in  case  of  war  with  Switzerland." 


74  YOLANDA 

"  I  predicted  evil  when  Burgundy  took  Nancy  from 
Lorraine,"  cried  Yolanda,  excitedly.  "  The  hollow 
conventions  made  with  Lorraine  after  the  capture  of 
that  city  were  but  the  promises  of  a  man  under 
duress.  The  only  ties  that  will  bind  a  narrow  man 
are  those  of  immediate  self-interest.  There  can  be 
no  lasting  treaty  between  France  and  Burgundy  so 
long  as  King  Louis  covets  Flanders  and  is  able  to 
bribe  our  neighbors.  These  conventions  between 
Burgundy,  Lorraine,  Bourbon,  and  St.  Pol  will  hold 
only  so  long  as  Burgundy  does  not  need  them." 

"  That  is  surely  true,  Fraulein,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  and  should  Burgundy  suffer 
any  great  misfortune  or  be  crippled  for  an  hour,  those 
small  states  would  be  upon  his  back  like  a  pack  of 
wolves,  and  he  would  be  ruined.  Lorraine,  Bourbon, 
and  St.  Pol  do  not  see  that  Burgundy  alone  stands 
between  them  and  the  greedy  maw  of  France.  Should 
King  Louis  survive  my  —  my  Lord  of  Burgundy  five 
years,  these  dukes  and  counts  will  lose  their  feudal 
rights  and  become  servile  vassals  of  France,  not  in 
name,  as  now  they  are,  but  in  sorry  fact." 

I  was  so  astonished  at  this  tempestuous  outburst 
from  an  unexpected  quarter,  and  was  so  surprised 
at  discovering  an  intimate  knowledge  of  great  affairs 
in  a  simple  burgher  maid,  that  I  dropped  the  piece  of 
meat  I  held  in  my  fingers  and  stared  in  wonder 
across  the  table  at  Yolanda.  I  had  known  from  the 


DOWN   THE   RHINE  TO   BURGUNDY  75 

first  hour  of  meeting  her  that  the  girl's  mind  was 
marvellously  keen ;  but  that  a  maid  of  seventeen  or 
eighteen,  in  her  position,  should  have  so  firm  a  grasp 
of  international  affairs  and  should  possess  so  clear  a 
conception  of  the  troublous  situation  in  western 
Europe,  astounded  me. 

In  eastern  Europe,  where  we  were  not  blinded  by 
neighborly  hatred  and  local  jealousies,  the  truth  of 
Yolanda's  statement  had  long  been  apparent.  We 
carried  our  prophecy  further  and  predicted  that  the 
headlong  passions  of  Charles  the  Rash  would  soon 
result  in  his  death  or  overthrow. 

My  point  in  dragging  in  this  heavy  load  of  political 
lore  is  this :  In  case  of  the  death  of  Charles  of  Bur 
gundy,  the  future  of  western  Europe  would  depend  on 
the  brains  and  the  bravery  of  the  man  who  should 
marry  the  Princess  Mary.  I  felt  that  Max  was  chosen 
of  God  for  that  destiny.  Should  he  succeed  in  de 
fending  Burgundy  against  France,  he  would  become 
the  most  powerful  man  in  Europe.  No  event  save 
death  could  keep  him  from  achieving  the  imperial 
crown. 

If  the  existing  treaty  of  marriage  between  Mary 
and  the  Dauphin  of  France  were  carried  out,  and  if 
the  Dauphin  as  king  should  possess  one-half  the  wis 
dom  of  his  father,  Louis,  all  western  Europe  would 
soon  be  France.  If  this  treaty  were  to  fail  and  the 
Princess  Mary  espouse  a  man  capable  of  defending 


76  YOLANDA 

her  territory,  Burgundy  would  still  remain  a  wall  of 
protection  to  the  smaller  states  of  the  Rhine. 

A  long  silence  followed  Yolanda's  outburst,  but 
her  words  had  so  astonished  me  that  my  supper  for 
the  evening  was  finished.  Castleman  plied  his  knife 
industriously  ;  Yolanda  nibbled  at  a  piece  of  meat 
between  her  dainty  fingers,  and  Twonette  gazed 
serenely  out  of  the  open  window. 

Yolanda's  words  and  Castleman's  constraint  filled 
me  with  wonder.  There  was  to  me  a  mystery  about 
this  little  beauty  that  had  not  been  touched  on  by  my 
friend  from  Peronne.  I  hoped  to  gain  information  on 
the  point  by  inducing  Yolanda  to  talk.  She  was 
willing  enough. 

"  Fraulein,"  I  said,  "  I  quite  agree  with  you.  It  is 
a  matter  of  surprise  to  me  that  these  noblemen  you 
mention  do  not  see  the  truth  as  you  state  it." 

"  They  are  fools,  Sir  Karl,  sodden  fools,"  exclaimed 
Yolanda.  "You  could  buy  their  souls  for  a  sou. 
King  Louis  buys  them  with  an  empty  promise  of 
one." 

"  Why  does  not  Duke  Charles  buy  them  ?  "  I  asked. 
«'Tis  said  he  has  enormous  quantities  of  ready  gold 
in  Luxembourg  Castle." 

"  Because,  Sir  Karl,"  she  responded  almost  savagely, 
«  bribery  is  the  weapon  of  a  coward.  The  Duke  of 
Burgundy  uses  his  money  to  pay  soldiers." 

"  But,   Fraulein,"    I   answered,   "  the   duke  has  for 


DOWN  THE  KHINE  TO   BURGUNDY  77 

years  —  ever  since  before  his  father's  death  —  been 
wasting  his  money,  sacrificing  his  soldiers,  and  despoil 
ing  his  land  by  wars,  prosecuted  to  no  good  end.  He 
has  conquered  large  territory,  but  he  has  paid  for  it 
with  the  blood  of  his  people.  Neither  they  nor  he 
are  the  better  because  of  those  accessions,  and  the 
duke  has  made  enemies  who  will  one  day  surely  wrest 
them  from  him.  A  brave  prince  should  not  fear  to  be 
called  a  coward  because  of  an  act  that  will  bring 
peace  and  happiness  to  his  subjects  and  save  their 
lives,  their  liberties,  and  their  estates.  That  great 
end  will  ennoble  any  means.  The  subjects  of  Bur 
gundy  are  frugal  and  peace-loving.  They  should  be 
protected  from  the  cruel  cost  of  useless  war.  I  would 
not  criticise  Duke  Charles,  whose  bravery  is  beyond 
compare,  but  for  the  sake  of  his  people  I  could  wish 
that  his  boldness  were  tempered  with  caution. 
Policy,  not  blows,  appears  to  me  the  only  way  out  of 
his  present  and  imminent  danger." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Sir  Karl,"  answered  Yo- 
landa,  "  but  I  advise  you  to  keep  your  views  to  your 
self  when  you  reach  Burgundy.  Should  they  come  to 
the  duke's  ears,  you  might  lose  yours." 

"  Indeed,  Fraulein,  your  warning  is  unnecessary," 
I  responded  laughingly.  "  I  already  know  the  dis 
position  of  the  duke  toward  those  who  disagree  with 
him.  His  ungovernable  passions  will  surely  lead  him 
to  a  terrible  end.  Bravery,  if  wise,  is  one  of  the 


78  YOLANDA 

noblest  attributes  of  man.  The  lack  of  wisdom 
makes  it  the  most  dangerous.  Duke  Charles  ought 
to  temper  his  courage  with  love  for  his  people.  He 
should  fight,  when  he  must,  with  wise  bravery.  If  he 
should  die,  God  pity  the  poor  people  of  Burgundy  un 
less  the  princess  choose  a  husband  both  wise  and  brave." 

"  But  she  will  not  be  allowed  to  choose,"  cried  Yo- 
landa,  passionately.  «  Her  freedom  is  less  than  that 
of  any  serf.  She  is  bound  hand  and  foot  by  the 
chains  of  her  birth.  She  is  more  to  be  pitied  than 
the  poorest  maiden  in  Burgundy.  The  saddest  of 
all  captives  is  she  wTho  is  chained  to  a  throne." 

"  That  surely  is  the  bitterest  draught  fate  offers  to 
mortal  man,"  sighed  Max. 

"  Yes,"  whispered  Yolanda,  huskily.  "  One  cannot 
rebel ;  one  may  not  even  kill  one's  self  when  one  is 
condemned  to  live.  One  can  do  nothing  but  endure 
and  wait  in  haunting  fear  and,  in  rare  moments, 
hope  against  a  million  chances." 

Evidently  she  meant  us  to  know  that  she  sorrowed 
for  Max's  martyrdom,  though  how  she  had  learned  of 
his  true  station  in  life  I  could  not  guess. 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  I  to  Castleman,  when  Yolanda 
and  Twonette  had  left  us,  "  that  Fraulein  Yolanda, 
who  seems  to  be  all  laughter  and  thoughtlessness, 
should  be  so  well  informed  upon  the  affairs  of  princes 
and  princesses,  and  should  take  this  public  matter  so 
much  to  heart." 


79 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  strange,  unfortunate  girl,"  answered 
Castleman,  "and  truly  loves  her  native  land.  She 
would,  I  believe,  be  another  Joan  of  Arc,  had  she  the 
opportunity.  She  and  her  father  do  not  at  all  agree. 
He  wholly  fails  to  comprehend  her." 

"  Is  her  father  your  brother  ?  "  I  asked.  I  felt  a 
sense  of  impertinence  in  putting  the  question,  but  my 
curiosity  was  irresistible. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Castleman,  hesitatingly  ;  then,  as 
if  hurrying  from  the  subject,  he  continued,  "  Her 
mother  is  dead,  and  the  girl  lives  chiefly  under  my 
roof." 

I  wanted  to  ask  other  questions  concerning  Yolanda, 
but  I  kept  silent.  I  had  begun  to  suspect  that  she 
was  not  what  she  passed  for  —  a  burgher  girl ;  but 
Castleman  was  a  straightforward,  truthful  man,  and 
his  words  satisfied  me.  I  had,  at  any  rate,  to  be 
content  with  them,  since  Yolanda's  affairs  were  none 
of  mine.  Had  I  not  been  sure  that  Max's  training 
and  inheritance  gave  him  a  shield  against  her  darts, 
she  and  her  affairs  would  have  given  me  deep  con 
cern.  At  that  time  I  had  all  the  match-making  im 
pulses  of  an  old  woman,  and  was  determined  that  no 
woman  should  step  between  Max  and  the  far-off, 
almost  impossible  Princess  of  Burgundy. 

When  we  resumed  our  journey  the  next  morning 
Yolanda  was  demure,  grave,  and  serious ;  but  the 
bright  sun  soon  had  its  way  with  her,  and  within 


80  YOLANDA 

a  half-hour  after  leaving  the  village  she  was  riding 
beside  Max,  laughing,  singing,  and  flashing  her  eyes 
upon  him  with  a  lustre  that  dimmed  the  sun  —  at 
least,  so  Max  thought,  and  probably  he  was  right. 

That  evening  Max  told  me  much  of  Yolanda's 
conversation. 

The  road  we  were  travelling  clung  to  the  Rhine  for 
several  leagues.  In  many  places  it  was  cut  from  the 
bank  at  the  water's  edge.  At  others  it  ran  along  the 
brink  of  beetling  precipices.  At  one  of  these  Max 
guided  his  horse  close  to  the  brink,  and,  leaning  over 
in  his  saddle,  looked  down  the  dizzy  heights  to  the 
river  below. 

"  Please  do  not  ride  so  near  the  brink,  Sir  Max," 
pleaded  Yolanda.  "  It  frightens  me." 

Max  had  little  of  the  braggadocio  spirit  about  him, 
but  no  rightly  constituted  young  man  is  entirely 
devoid  of  the  desire  to  "  show  off  "  in  the  presence 
of  timid  and  interesting  ladies.  Without  that  spirit 
of  "  show-off,"  what  would  induce  our  knights  to 
meet  in  glorious  tournaments  ?  Without  it,  what 
would  our  chivalry  amount  to  ?  Without  it,  why 
should  a  peacock  spread  its  tail  ?  I  do  not  belittle 
it,  since  from  this  spirit  of  "  show-off "  arises  one 
great  good  —  respect  for  the  opinion  of  our  fellow- 
man.  So  Max,  with  a  dash  of  "  show-off  "  in  his  dis 
position,  laughed  at  Yolanda's  fears  and  answered 
that  he  was  in  no  danger. 


DOWN   THE   KHINE  TO   BUKGUKDY  81 

"  It  is  very  brave  in  you,  Sir  Max,  to  go  so  near 
the  brink,"  said  Yolanda,  ironically,  "but  do  you 
remember  what  Sir  Karl  said  concerning  'wise 
bravery '  ?  There  can  be  no  need  for  your  bravery, 
and  therefore  no  wisdom  in  it.  Were  there  good 
reason  why  you  should  go  near  the  brink,  I  should 
despise  you  if  you  refused ;  but  there  is  no  reason 
and,  since  it  frightens  me,  I  wish  you  would  remain 
in  the  road." 

"  Gladly  I  will,"  answered  Max,  reining  his  horse 
beside  her. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Yolanda,  with  as  much  se 
riousness  as  she  could  easily  command,  «  that  your 
friend,  Sir  Karl,  is  a  philosopher  ?  His  phrase,  '  wise 
bravery,'  clings  to  me.  I  certainly  wish  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  would  learn  it  and  take  it  to  heart." 

"  I  have  heard  many  conflicting  stories  concerning 
this  Duke  Charles,"  said  Max.  "  Some  persons  say 
he  is  all  that  is  brave  and  noble ;  others  declare  that 
he  is  fierce,  passionate,  and  bad.  I  wonder  which  I 
shall  find  him  to  be  ?  " 

"  Do  you  expect  to  take  service  with  him  ?  "  asked 
Yolanda,  half  sadly.  At  the  mention  of  the  duke's 
name  all  smiles  and  dimples  fled  incontinently. 

"  No,"  answered  Max,  "  I  think  I  shall  not  take 
service  with  the  duke.  In  truth,  I  don't  know  what 
I  shall  do.  For  what  purpose  I  am  going  to  Bur 
gundy  I  am  sure  I  cannot  say." 


82  YOLANDA 

A  short  silence  ensued,  which  was  broken  by 
Yolanda,  speaking  archly  :  — 

"  Perhaps  you  are  going  to  Burgundy  or  to  France 
to  win  the  lady  who  gave  you  the  ring  ?  "  Max  was 
surprised,  and  flushed  as  he  answered  :  — 

"  That  would  be  an  impossible  thought,  Fraulein. 
If  you  but  knew  who  the  lady  is,  you  would  under 
stand  that  such  a  hope  on  my  part  were  a  phantasy. 
But  I  have  no  such  hope  or  wish.  I  do  not  now 
want  to  win  the  lady  of  the  ring." 

"  No,  no,  Sir  Max,"  said  Yolanda,  protestingly, 
«  you  must  not  basely  desert  this  lady-love  whom  you 
have  never  seen.  If  trouble  should  come  to  her,  who 
ever  she  is,  you  must  hasten  to  her  rescue  and  carry 
her  away.  The  best  opportunity  to  rob,  you  know, 
comes  in  the  midst  of  a  melee.  Take  her,  Sir  Max. 
I  wish  you  success." 

«  Do  you  really  wish  me  success,  Fraulein  ?  "  asked 
Max,  looking  straight  ahead.  He  was  not  at  all 
flattered  by  her  good  wishes  concerning  the  lady  of 
the  ring. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  responded  the  girl,  joyously ;  "  I  will 
pray  to  the  Virgin  and  ask  her  to  help  you  to  win 
this  fair  lady  who  gave  you  the  ring." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  good  wishes,"  returned  Max, 
"though  I  could  easily  be  satisfied  with  less  enthusi 
asm  on  the  subject." 

"  Indeed  ?     Why,  may  I  ask  ?  " 


DOWN   THE  EHINE   TO   BURGUNDY  83 

"Because,  Fraulein —  because  I  had  hoped  — " 
Max  ceased  speaking,  and,  leaning  forward,  smoothed 
his  horse's  mane. 

Yolanda  waited  for  a  moment  and  then,  turning  her 
face  toward  Max,  asked :  — 

"  You  had  hoped  for  what,  Sir  Max  ?  " 

"  I  had  hoped  for  nothing,  Fraulein,"  he  answered. 
"  I  am  satisfied  as  matters  now  stand  between  us. 
Your  words  at  supper  last  evening  rang  in  my  ears  all 
night,  '  Chained  to  a  throne  ;  chained  to  a  throne.'  I 
knew  you  referred  to  my  unhappy  lot  when  you 
spoke,  though  how  you  guessed  the  truth  concerning 
my  station  I  do  not  know." 

A  surprised  little  smile  spread  over  her  face,  but 
he  did  not  see  it.  He  was  still  smoothing  his  horse's 
mane. 

"  You  cannot  know  the  terrible  truth  of  your 
words,"  continued  Max.  "  I  will  tell  you  a  part  of 
my  secret,  Fraulein.  All  my  life  I  have  been  cut  off 
—  chained  to  a  throne  —  from  the  fellowship  of  men 
and  the  love  of  friends.  Karl  is  the  only  friend  I 
have  ever  known  save  my  mother  until  I  met  you 
and  your  good  people.  Only  the  good  God  can  know 
how  I  have  longed  and  hungered  since  childhood  for 
friendship  ;  even  for  companionship.  I  did  not  know 
what  I  yearned  for  until  since  my  arrival  at  Basel. 
Truly  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,  even  though 
he  be  upon  a  throne.  I  am  riot  upon  a  throne, 


84  YOLANDA 

Fraulein,  but  I  am  near  one  —  a  small,  barren  throne, 
whose  greatest  attribute  is  its  ancestry.  My  home  is 
a  sad,  lonely  place  —  how  lonely  even  you,  who  have 
guessed  so  shrewdly  and  who  speak  so  eloquently, 
cannot  know.  You  should  thank  God  for  your  lowly 
birth  and  your  lowly  friends." 

"  I  do,"  the  girl  answered,  with  a  queer,  half-sad, 
half-amused  expression  upon  her  face  which  Max 
could  not  interpret. 

"  But  we  cannot  break  the  chains  that  have  been 
welded  a  thousand  years  —  that  have  grown  stronger 
and  tighter  with  each  generation,"  said  Max.  "  You 
truthfully  said,  (  One  may  only  endure.'  ' 

"  I  also  said  that  at  rare  moments  one  may  hope," 
she  answered,  with  drooping  head. 

1 "  Not  I,  Fraulein.     I  may  not  even  hope.     I  am 
doomed,"  answered  Max. 

"  No,  no,  Sir  Max,"  responded  the  drooping  head. 

After  a  prolonged  silence  Max  said,  "  I  am  sure 
the  secret  of  my  station  is  safe  with  you." 

"  You  need  nqt  doubt,  Sir  Max,"  she  responded. 
"  You  cannot  know  how  safe  it  is."  She  turned 
brightly  upon  him  and  continued,  "  Let  me  invoke 
my  spirits,  Sir  Max."  She  raised  her  eyes,  saint- 
fashion,  toward  heaven,  and  spoke  under  her  breath  : 
"  I  hear  the  word  <  hope,'  Sir  Max, '  hope.'  It  is  very 
faint,  but  better  faint  than  not  at  all." 

"  I   tell   you   there  is  no  hope  for  me,  Fraulein," 


DOWN   THE   RHINE   TO   BURGUNDY  85 

responded  Max,  desperately.  "It  is  cruel  in  you  to 
say  there  is.  It  is  doubly  cruel  to  speak  jestingly." 

"  I  speak  earnestly,"  said  Yolanda.  "  There  is 
hope.  If  you  win  the  lady  who  gave  you  the  ring, 
you  will  be  happy.  I  do  not  jest." 

"  You  do.  You  mock  me,"  cried  Max.  "  I  tell 
you,  Yolanda,  there  is  in  all  the  world  no  woman  for 
me  save  —  save  one  upon  whom  I  may  not  think." 
Yolanda's  face  grew  radiant,  though  tears  moistened 
her  eyes.  "  Even  though  it  were  possible  for  me  to 
defy  my  parents,  to  turn  my  face  against  my  country, 
my  people,  and  the  sacred  traditions  of  my  house, 
by  asking  her  to  share  my  life,  there  could  be  only 
wretchedness  ahead  for  her,  and  therefore  unhappi- 
ness  for  me.  The  dove  and  the  eagle  may  not  mate. 
Consider  the  fate  of  sweet  Agnes  Bernauer,  who  mar 
ried  Duke  Albert  and  perished  in  the  Danube.  I  tell 
you,  Friiulein,  I  am  hopeless.  When  I  return  to  my 
people,  I  shall  do  so  knowing  that  life  thereafter  will 
be  something  to  endure,  not  a  blessing  to  thank  God 
for." 

"  No,  no,  Sir  Max,"  murmured  the  girl,  "  you  do 
not  know." 

Max  turned  upon  her  almost  angrily  :  — 

"  A  man  knows  when  he  lives ;  a  man  knows 
when  he  is  dying,  and  a  man,  if  he  be  worthy  of  the 
name,  knows  when  he  loves  a  woman.  I  am  not 
more  sure  that  the  sun  shines,  Fraulein,  than  I  am 


86  YOLANDA 

that  I  shall  not  forget  this  woman  nor  cease  to 
sorrow  for  her  all  the  days  of  my  life." 

"  You  must  not  speak  such  words  to  me,  Sir  Max," 
said  Yolanda,  reprovingly.  "  I,  too,  must  live  and  be 
happy  if  —  if  I  can." 

She  turned  her  face  away  from  Max  and,  touching 
her  horse  with  her  whip,  passed  a  few  feet  ahead  of 
him.  If  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  she  did  not 
wish  Max  to  see  them.  After  several  minutes  of 
silence  he  spurred  his  horse  to  her  side. 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  speak,  Fraulein.  I  once  said 
I  would  never  speak  again.  I  should  not  have 
spoken  now,  though  I  have  told  you  only  what  you 
already  know.  I  ask  no  favor  in  return,  not  even 
a  touch  from  your  hand." 

"  You  shall  have  that  at  least,  Sir  Max,"  she 
answered,  impulsively  reining  her  horse  close  to  Max 
and  placing  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Still,  you  wish  me  to  win  the  lady  who  sent  me 
the  ring  ?  "  asked  Max. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Yolanda,  softly.  "  It  will  mean 
your  happiness  and  mine  — "  Suddenly  checking 
herself,  she  explained  :  "  I  shall  be  happy  if  you  are. 
A  man  cannot  know  how  happy  a  woman  may  be 
for  another's  sake." 

I  felt  no  desire  to  reprove  Max  when  he  told  me  of 
his  day's  adventure  with  Yolanda,  since  I  could  in  no 
way  remedy  the  evil.  In  fact,  Max  was  growing  out 


DOWN  THE   RHINE   TO  BURGUNDY  87 

of  my  jurisdiction.  He  had  listened  to  my  lectures 
and  advice  since  childhood  and  had  taken  them  kindly, 
because  my  authority  grew  out  of  my  love  for  him 
and  his  love  for  me.  He  was  a  boy  when  we  left 
Styria,  but  he  was  a  man  when  we  were  journeying 
down  the  Rhine.  Though  the  confidential  relations 
between  us  had  grown  closer,  my  advice  was  gradually 
taking  the  form  of  consultation.  I  did  not  seek  his 
confidences,  and  he  gave  them  more  freely,  if  that 
were  possible,  than  ever  before.  I  did  not  offer  my 
advice  so  readily,  but  he  sought  it  more  frequently. 
Max  told  me  the  sorrowful  little  story  of  the  day, 
and  I  did  not  comment  on  it.  I  simply  led  him 
in  another  direction. 

"  Fraulein  Yolanda's  words  have  given  me  food  for 
thought,"  I  said.  "  So  long  as  Duke  Charles  lives, 
there  can  be  no  union  between  Burgundy  and  Haps- 
burg ;  but  at  the  pace  he  is  travelling  he  will  surely 
receive  his  coup  de  grdce  before  long,  and  I  hope  you 
will  meet  and  know  the  princess  before  the  tragedy 
occurs.  Then  declare  yourself  and  back  your  claim 
with  the  duke's  proposal,  which  has  never  been  with 
drawn.  That  the  people  of  Burgundy  hate  France 
and  this  French  marriage  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
They  are  fools  for  so  doing,  but  we  may  easily  profit 
by  their  lack  of  wisdom.  In  the  event  of  the  duke's 
death  the  inclinations  of  the  princess  will  be  half  the 
battle.  So  long  as  he  lives  they  are  no  part  of  it. 


58  YOLANDA 

If,  by  the  help  of  Twonette,  you  should  be  so  fortunate 
as  to  meet  the  princess,  our  dream  may  be  realized,  and 
our  house  may  become  the  greatest  in  Europe." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,  Karl,"  answered  Max. 
"  You  are  always  right ;  but  I  have  no  heart  in  this 
matter,  and  I  hope  nothing  will  come  of  it.  I  have 
never  known  you  to  be  so  cold-blooded  as  in  this 
affair." 

"  If  you  are  to  be  hot-blooded,  or  even  warm 
blooded,  you  must  turn  your  back  on  your  house 
and  cast  from  you  the  duties  and  privileges  of  your 
birth,"  I  observed. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  answered  irritably.  "  But  it 
will  be  difficult  for  me  to  please  one  woman  while 
thinking  of  another.  Ah,  Karl,  I  am  growing  tired 
of  this  Burgundian  dream.  Dream  ?  It  is  almost  a 
nightmare." 

Max's  words  did  not  alarm  me ;  he  was  "  chained 
to  a  throne."  He  would  not  fail  me  if  the  hour  of 
good  fortune  should  come. 

"  Your  thoughts  of  another  woman  will  not  stand 
in  your  way,"  I  said.  "  Experience  is  more  necessary 
in  dealing  with  women  than  in  any  other  of  life's 
affairs,  and  this  episode  with  Yolanda  is  what  you 
need  to  prepare  you  for  —  for  what  I  pray  you  may 
have  to  do." 

"  Karl,  please  do  not  talk  of  this  —  this  —  my  feel 
ing  for  Yolanda  as  an  episode,"  he  said,  speaking 


DOWN   THE   SHINE   TO   BURGUNDY  89 

almost  angrily.  "  It  is  a  part  of  my  life,  and  will  be 
my  sorrow  as  long  as  I  live." 

The  boy's  anger  warned  me  that  if  I  would  lead 
him,  I  must  do  it  gently. 

"  I  believe,  Max,  you  speak  truly,"  I  said  ;  "  but 
it  will  not  be  an  unmixed  evil.  Good  will  come  of 
it,  since  the  image  of  a  pure  woman  injures  no  man's 
heart.  It  keeps  him  in  the  narrow  way  arid  guides 
his  hand  for  righteousness." 


CHAPTER   V 

WHO    IS    YOLANDA? 

NEXT  morning  Yolanda  came  to  breakfast  smiling, 
bedimpled,  and  sparkling  as  a  sunlit  mountain 
brook.     Max,  who  was  gloomy,  took  her  sprightliness    : 
amiss,  thinking,  no  doubt,  that  her  life  also  ought  to 
be  darkened  by  the  cloud  that  he  thought  was  over 
shadowing  him.     There  was  no  doubt  in  my  mind 
that  Yolanda  had  inspired  a  deep  and  lasting  passion 
in  Max,  though  he  was,  I   hoped,  mistaken   in   the   \ 
belief  that  it  would  darken  his  life.     But  I  would 
not  give  a  kreutzer  for  a  young  fellow  who  does  not   • 
feel  that  life  is  worthless  without  his  lady-love. 

Yolanda  did  not  take  kindly  to  clouds  of  any  sort, 
and  she  soon  scattered  those  that  Max  had  conjured 
up.  After  we  had  resumed  our  journey  Max  fell 
back  to  ride  with  her. 

« Sir  Max,"  she  said,  "  if  you  allow  yourself  to 
become  The  Knight  Doleful,  I  will  not  only  cease 
having  speech  with  you,  but  I  will  laugh  at  you." 

The  latter  she  did  then  and  there.  This  from  a 
burgher  girl  of  Peronne  to  a  prince  of  the  House  of 
Hapsburg !  The  good  duke  and  duchess  would  have 

90 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  91 

swooned  with  horror  had  they  known  of  it.  Max  was 
inclined  to  be  angry,  but,  unfortunately  for  his  ill- 
humor,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  and  he,  too, 
laughed. 

"  I  fear  I  am  a  great  fool,"  he  said.  Yolanda  did 
not  contradict  him.  She  simply  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders  as  if  to  say,  "  That  unfortunate  condition  is  apt, 
at  times,  to  overtake  the  best  of  men." 

Soon  our  little  cavalcade  came  together,  and  we 
rode,  laughing,  and  all  talking  at  once,  for  a  league 
or  more. 

Our  road  had  parted  from  the  river  at  one  of  its 
great  bends,  and  for  an  hour  we  had  been  slowly 
climbing  a  long  hill.  When  we  reached  the  top,  we 
unsaddled  for  dinner  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  by  the 
wayside.  A  hundred  yards  from  the  road  was  a 
dense  copse  of  undergrowth  and  bushes  on  the  edge 
of  the  forest.  Off  to  the  east  flowed  the  majestic 
Rhine,  a  league  distant,  and  to  the  north  ran  the  road 
like  a  white  ribbon,  stretching  downhill  to  the  valley 
and  up  again  to  the  top  of  another  hill,  distant  per 
haps  a  half-league. 

While  we  were  eating  dinner,  a  cloud  of  dust  arose 
from  the  hilltop  north  of  us,  and  immediately  began 
descending  in  our  direction.  At  intervals,  in  the 
midst  of  the  dust-cloud,  we  caught  glimpses  of  men 
on  horseback  riding  at  full  gallop.  This  unwel 
come  sight  brought  our  dinner  to  an  end.  I  at  once 


92  YOLANDA 

ordered  the  sumpter  mules  taken  to  the  copse  on  the 
forest's  edge,  and  directed  every  man  to  look  to  his 
arms  and  armor.  I  asked  Twonette  and  Yolanda  to 
go  with  the  mules,  and  Yolanda  became  angry. 

"  /go  with  the  mules  ?  Sir  Karl,  you  forget  your 
self,"  cried  the  young  lady,  drawing  herself  up  with 
the  dignity  of  a  princess  royal.  Twonette  ran  as 
rapidly  as  her  feet  could  take  her  to  seek  refuge  with 
the  mules,  but  Yolanda,  with  flashing  eyes,  declared : 

"  I  will  remain  here." 

I  felt  that  an  apology  was  due  to  this  burgher 
girl. 

"  I  will  gladly  apologize  later,  Fraulein,  but  now 
I  have  only  time  to  beg  that  you  will  conceal  your 
self.  These  men  probably  are  robbers.  If  they  see 
you,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  fight  them,  however 
great  their  numbers.  If  we  find  their  force  too 
large  for  us,  we  may  easily  ransom  the  mules 
and  their  packs,  but  we  could  make  no  terms  for 
you.  If  they  are  Black  Riders,  they  will  prefer  a 
little  gold  to  a  great  deal  of  silk,  but  they  will  pre 
fer  you  and  Fraulein  Twonette  to  a  great  deal  of 
gold." 

"  I  would  not  pay  them  one  piece  of  gold,"  cried 
Yolanda,  defiantly.  "  Give  me  an  arquebuse.  I  will 
help  you  fight." 

The  brave  little  heroine  astonished  me. 

«  Would  you  prefer  that  Max  or  your  good  uncle 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  93 

and  perhaps  some  of  our  poor  mule-leaders  should  be 
killed  by  these  pigstickers,"  I  asked,  "  or  would  you 
compound  with  them  in  some  reasonable  way  ?  Shall 
we  fight  them  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  answered,  "  wise  bravery  is  better. 
I  suppose  I  shall  learn  the  lesson  some  day." 

While  the  troop  of  horsemen  were  under  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  Yolanda  ran  across  the  open  to  a  place  of 
concealment  beside  Twonette.  Hardly  was  she  hidden 
when  the  dust-cloud  rose  from  the  brink  of  the  hill, 
and  five  men,  well  though  roughly  armed,  galloped 
up  to  us  and  drew  their  horses  back  upon  their 
haunches. 

"  What  have  we  here  ? "  demanded  the  captain,  a 
huge  German.  Their  grimy  armor  and  bearded  faces 
besmeared  with  black  marked  them  as  Black  Riders.- 
I  was  overjoyed  to  see  that  they  numbered  but 
five. 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  "  I  asked,  putting  on  a  bold 
front,  though  I  feared  our  mule-leaders  would  make 
but  a  sorry  fight  should  we  come  to  blows. 

"  That  depends  on  what  you  have,"  responded 
our  swart  friend,  coolly.  "  Whatever  you  have,  so 
much  it  is  to  us." 

"  What  will  you  take  in  gold,  my  good  man,  and 
let  us  go  our  way  in  peace  with  our  cargo  of  silks  ?  " 
asked  Castleman. 

"  By  your  leave,  friend,"  said  I,  interrupting  the 


94  YOLANDA 

negotiations,  "  I  am  in  command  when  fighting  is  to 
be  done.  Let  me  settle  with  this  fellow." 

"  Settle  now,  if  you  are  so  keen,"  cried  the  big 
German,  drawing  his  sword  and  spurring  his  horse 
upon  me.  I  could  not  have  withstood  the  unex 
pected  onrush,  and  certainly  would  have  met  with 
hard  blows  or  worse,  had  not  Max  come  to  my  rescue. 
I  hurriedly  stepped  back,  and  the  German,  in  follow 
ing  me,  rode  near  a  large  stone  by  the  roadside.  He 
had,  doubtless,  passed  the  stone  many  times  in  his 
travels  up  and  down  the  road,  but  the  thought  prob 
ably  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be 
the  cause  of  his  death.  The  most  potential  facts  in 
our  lives  are  usually  too  insignificant  to  attract 
attention. 

When  the  German  charged  me,  Max  sprang  upon 
the  stone  and  dealt  the  swart  ruffian  a  blow  such  as 
no  man  may  survive.  Max's  great  battle-axe  crushed 
the  Black  Rider's  helmet  as  if  it  were  an  egg-shell, 
and  the  captain  of  our  foes  fell  backward,  hanging 
by  his  stirrups.  One  of  our  squires  shot  one  of  the 
robbers,  and  the  remaining  three  took  flight.  Max 
caught  the  captain's  horse,  and  coolly  extricated  the 
dead  man's  feet  from  the  stirrups.  Then  he  thrust 
the  body  to  the  roadside  with  the  indifference  of  a 
man  whose  life  has  been  spent  in  slaughter.  Among 
his  many  inheritances,  Max  probably  had  taken  this 
indifference,  together  with  his  instinctive  love  of 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  95 

battle.  He  was  not  quarrelsome,  but  he  took  to  a 
fight  as  naturally  as  a  duck  takes  to  water. 

When  the  robbers  had  left,  Yolanda  came  running 
from  her  hiding-place.  She  was  not  frightened  ;  she 
was  aglow  with  excitement.  She,  too,  must  have 
inherited  the  love  of  battle.  Twonette  was  trem 
bling  with  fear. 

"  Ah,  Sir  Max,  it  was  beautifully  done,"  said 
Yolanda.  "You  sprang  upon  the  rock  with  the 
quickness  of  a  panther,  and  the  blow  was  dealt  with 
the  strength  of  a  lion.  I  saw  it  all.  When  your 
battle-axe  rose  above  the  robber's  head,  death  was 
written  on  the  steel.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  you 
kill  him,  Sir  Max.  Strength  is  always  beautiful 
in  the  eyes  of  a  woman,  but  it  is  doubly  so  when 
used  in  her  defence  and  linked  with  <  wise  bravery.' 
I  thank  you,  Sir  Karl,  for  teaching  me  that  word. 
Sir  Max,  I  —  I  cannot  thank  you  now." 

She  stopped  speaking  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands.  In  a  moment  she  partly  recovered  com 
posure  and  smiled  her  gratitude  through  a  little 
shower  of  tears.  Max  was,  of  course,  aglow  with 
pleasure  at  Yolanda's  praise,  but  he  bore  his  honors 
meekly.  He  did  not  look  upon  his  tremendous  feat 
of  arms  as  of  much  importance. 

Fearing  the  return  of  the  Schwartreiter  with  rein 
forcements,  we  lost  no  time  in  resuming  our  journey. 
Max  and  Yolanda  quickly  finished  their  dinner,  but 


96  YOLANDA 

Castleman,  Twonette,  and  myself  did  not  care  to 
eat. 

Within  ten  minutes  after  Max  had  killed  the  cap 
tain  of  the  Black  Riders  we  were  on  our  road  travel 
ling  downhill,  very  joyful  in  our  victory  and  very 
proud  of  our  knight,  Sir  Max.  We  left  the  dead 
men  by  the  roadside,  but  took  with  us  two  fine 
horses  as  compensation  for  our  trouble.  The  cap 
tain's  great  charger  Max  appropriated  for  his  own. 
He  will  appear  again  in  this  chronicle. 

We  rode  silently  but  joyfully.  Twonette  slowly 
recovered  from  her  fright,  and  the  pink  crept  back 
to  her  cheeks.  The  pink  had  not  left  Yolanda's 
cheeks,  nor  had  her  nerves  been  disturbed  by  the 
adventures  of  the  morning.  Max  tried  hard  to  sup 
press  his  exuberance  of  spirit,  and  Yolanda  laved 
him  in  the  sunshine  of  her  smiles. 

Within  three  hours  we  were  safely  housed  at  a 
village  by  the  Rhine.  Castleman,  finding  me  alone, 
said  :  — 

"  You,  Sir  Karl,  and  Sir  Max  little  know  the  value 
of  the  friend  you  have  made  this  day." 

"  I  thank  you,  good  Castleman,"  I  answered, 
hardly  liking  so  great  an  air  of  condescension  on  the 
part  of  a  burgher.  An  afterthought  suggested  that 
perhaps  Castleman  had  not  referred  to  himself  as 
the  friend  we  had  made.  Strange  thoughts  and 
speculations  had  of  late  been  swarming  in  my  mind 


WHO   IS   YOLANDA?  97 

until  they  had  almost  taken  the  form  of  a  refrain, 
"  Who  is  Yolanda  ?  "  Though  the  question  repeated 
itself  constantly  by  day  and  by  night,  I  received  no 
whisper  of  an  answer. 

We  travelled  slowly,  and  it  was  not  until  the  second 
day  after  our  conflict  with  the  Black  Riders  that  we 
found  ourselves  near  Strasburg.  A  league  from  the 
city  gates  we  met  Raoul  de  Rose,  a  herald  of  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy.  Yolanda  recognized  his  banner 
at  a  distance  and  hastily  veiled  herself.  Twonette 
remained  unveiled. 

We  halted,  and  De  Rose,  who  was  travelling  alone, 
safe  under  a  herald's  privileges,  drew  rein  beside 
Castleman  and  me,  who  had  been  riding  in  advance 
of  our  cavalcade.  While  Castleman  was  talking  to 
De  Rose,  Yolanda  and  Twonette  rode  forward,  pass 
ing  on  that  side  of  the  highway  which  left  Castleman 
and  me  between  them  and  the  herald. 

"  Ah,  good  Castleman,"  said  De  Rose,  "  you  are  far 
from  home  these  troublous  times." 

"  Your  words  imply  bad  news,  monsieur,"  returned 
Castleman.  "  I  have  already  heard  hints  of  trouble, 
though  all  was  quiet  when  I  left  Peronne." 

"  When  did  you  leave  ?  "  asked  the  herald. 

"  More  than  two  months  ago,"  answered  Castleman. 

"With  our  rapidly  moving  duke,  two  months  is 
ample  time  to  make  a  deal  of  trouble,  to  gain  vic 
tories,  and  to  compel  peace  among  his  quarrelsome 


98  YOLANDA 

neighbors,"  answered  De  Rose.  "  It  is  publicly 
known  that  I  carry  defiance  to  the  Swiss.  They 
cannot  comply  with  Burgundy's  terms,  and  war  will 
surely  follow.  Our  duke  will  teach  these  Swiss  sheep 
to  stop  bleating,  and  when  this  war  is  finished,  the 
dominion  of  Burgundy  will  include  the  Alps.  Duke 
Charles  will  have  fresh  ice  for  his  dinner  every  day 
—  ice  from  the  mountain  tops." 

"That  is  all  he  will  get  from  the  barren  Swiss 
land,  I  fear,"  remarked  Castleman. 

"  But  if  he  wants  it  ? "  answered  De  Rose,  shrug 
ging  his  shoulders. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Castleman,  « if  the  duke  wants  it, 
God  give  it  him ;  but  I  am  sorry  to  see  war  with 
so  peaceful  a  people  as  the  Swiss." 

"  There  are  many  persons  in  Burgundy  foolish 
enough  to  agree  with  you,"  answered  De  Rose,  laugh 
ingly,  "  but  for  my  part,  the  will  of  my  master  is  my 
will." 

"  Amen  !  "  said  the  cautious  burgher. 

De  Rose  smiled,  and  said  :  — 

"  There  is  but  one  will  in  Burgundy,  and  that  will 
be  done." 

"  Where  is  the  duke  ?  "  asked  Castleman. 

"  He  is  at  home  in  Ghent,"  answered  the  herald. 

"  Is  he  to  remain  there  ?  "  asked  the  burgher,  dis 
playing  a  sudden  interest. 

"  I  believe  he  goes  soon  to  Peronne  to  look  after 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  99 

his  affairs  on  the  French  border,  and  to  see  the 
duchess  and  the  princess  before  leaving  for  Switzer 
land.  It  is  also  publicly  known  that  the  duke,  while 
at  Peronne,  intends  to  arrange  for  the  immediate 
marriage  of  the  princess  to  the  Dauphin.  He  wishes 
to  tie  the  hands  of  King  Louis  before  making  war 
elsewhere,  and  he  is  going  to  Peronne  to  cause  this 
marriage  to  be  celebrated  before  he  leaves  Burgundy." 

"  Sacred  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  usually  phlegmatic 
burgher.  "  We  must  hasten  home.  Farewell,  Mon 
sieur  de  Rose.  Your  news  indeed  is  bad  —  your  news 
of  war." 

Castleman  urged  "  Last  Week "  to  an  unwonted 
pace,  and  drew  rein  beside  Yolanda.  I  followed 
slowly,  and  unintentionally  overhead  him  say :  — 

"  Your  father  will  soon  be  in  Peronne.  The  duke 
leaves  Ghent  within  a  day  or  two." 

"  Holy  Virgin  !  "  cried  Yolanda,  excitedly.  "  We 
must  make  all  haste,  good  uncle.  Hereafter  we 
must  travel  night  and  day.  We  must  double  our 
retinue  at  Strasburg  and  hasten  forward  regardless 
of  danger  and  fatigue.  I  wish  we  were  across  Lor 
raine  and  well  out  of  Metz.  If  this  war  begins, 
Lorraine  will  surely  turn  upon  Burgundy." 

"  I  begged  you  not  to  come  upon  this  journey," 
said  Castleman,  complainingly. 

"  I  know  you  did,  uncle,"  returned  Yolanda,  re 
pentantly. 


100  YOLANDA 

"  But  you  would  come,"  continued  Castleman, 
determined  to  give  vent  to  his  feelings.  "  I  could 
not  dissuade  you,  and  now  if  the  duke  leaves  Ghent 
—  if  your  father  reaches  Peronne  —  before  we  re 
turn,  God  help  us  all." 

"  Yes,  dear  uncle,"  said  Yolanda,  humbly ;  « as 
usual,  I  was  at  fault.  I  have  been  a  source  of 
trouble  and  danger  to  you  nearly  all  my  life,  and 
you,  of  all  persons  in  the  world,  I  would  make 
happy." 

I  was  riding  ten  paces  behind  Castleman,  but  the 
wind  came  toward  me,  and  I  was  an  involuntary 
listener.  What  I  had  heard  was  of  such  tremen 
dous  import  to  Max  that  I  could  not  bring  myself  to 
rein  back  my  horse,  though  I  despised  myself  for 
listening.  I  believe  that  moment  was,  of  all  my 
life,  the  greatest  test  of  my  love  for  Max.  No  less 
a  motive  could  have  induced  me  to  become  an  eaves 
dropper.  Gastleman  was  silent  for  a  short  time,  and 
then  I  heard  him  say  :  — 

"  You  have  also  brought  me  happiness,  Yolanda, 
and  I  shall  be  wretched  when  your  father  takes 
you  from  me.  Twonette  is  not  dearer  to  me  than 
you.  Whatever  befalls,  I  shall  still  thank  God  for 
the  happiness  He  has  given  me  in  you." 

"  Ah,  uncle,  your  kind  words  almost  break  my 
heart,"  said  Yolanda,  placing  her  kerchief  to  her 
eyes.  "  I  wish  you  would  not  forgive  me  for  hav- 


WHO  IS   YOLAKDA?  101 

ing  brought  you  into  this  hard  case.  I  wish  you 
would  upbraid  me.  I  will  pray  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  night  and  day  to  protect  you  from  this 
trouble  my  wilfulness  has  brought  upon  you.  Never 
again  will  I  be  wilful,  dear  uncle,  never  again  — 
with  you.  At  Strasburg  I  will  make  an  offering  to 
the  Virgin." 

"  Make  her  an  offering  of  this  young  man  on 
whom  you  are  smiling,"  suggested  Castleman.  "  I 
would  have  left  him  at  Basel  but  for  your  wilful- 
ness  and  entreaties.  We  know  nothing  of  him  save 
that  he  is  big,  honest,  brave,  gentle,  and  good  to 
look  upon.  I  have  already  warned  you  against  the 
great  favor  you  show  him.  '  I  shall  not  do  so  again. 
I  advise  that  we  leave  him  at  Metz." 

"  I  will  do  as  you  advise,"  said  Yolanda,  mourn 
fully.  "  I  will  offer  even  this,  my  first  great  happi 
ness,  to  the  Virgin.  Surely  it  will  propitiate  her." 

This  conversation  almost  deprived  me  of  the 
power  to  think.  In  a  dimly  conscious  fashion,  I 
wondered  whether  Castleman  could  possibly  have 
meant  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  when  he  told  Yolanda 
that  her  father  would  soon  be  at  Peronne.  I  could 
find  no  other  meaning  for  his  words,  and  I  was 
almost  ready  to  believe  that  the  brown-eyed,  laughing 
Yolanda  was  none  other  than  the  far-famed  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  whose  tiny  hand  was  sought  by  every 
nation  of  Europe  having  a  marriageable  king  or  prince. 


102  YOLANDA 

Kings  in  their  dotage  and  princes  in  their  nonage 
wooed  her.  Old  men  and  babes  eagerly  sought  the 
favor  of  this  young  girl,  and  stood  ready  to  give  their 
gold,  their  blood,  and  the  lives  of  their  subjects  on 
even  the  shadow  of  a  chance  to  win  her.  The 
battle-field  and  the  bower  alike  had  been  wooing- 
ground  for  her  smiles.  After  all  this,  she  had  been 
affianced  to  the  Dauphin  of  France,  and  her  father 
would  bring  the  marriage  about  within  a  few  weeks. 
To  this  girl  I  had  thought  to  be  gracious,  and  had 
feared  that  I  might  be  too  condescending.  I  then 
realized  what  a  pitiable  ass  a  man  may  make  of 
himself  by  giving  his  whole  time  and  attention  to 
the  task. 

Of  course  I  was  not  sure  that  Yolanda  was  the 
princess.  Her  father,  spoken  of  by  Castleman,  might 
be,  and  probably  was,  a  great  lord  in  the  duke's 
train.  Yolanda  might  be  the  love-daughter  of 
Charles  of  Burgundy.  Many  explanations  might  be 
given  to  Castleman's  remarks ;  but  I  could  not  help 
believing  that  Yolanda  was  the  far-famed  Burgundian 
princess.  If  so,  what  a  marvellous  romance  was  this 
journey  that  Max  and  I  had  undertaken,  and  what  a 
fantastic  trick  fate  had  played  in  bringing  these  two 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  meet  in  the  quaint 
old  Swiss  city.  It  seemed  almost  as  if  their  souls 
had  journeyed  toward  each  other,  since  the  beginning 
of  time. 


WHO  IS  YOLAKDA?"  103 

That  the  princess  should  be  abroad  with  Castle- 
man  and  his  daughter  unattended  by  even  a  lady-in- 
waiting  seemed  improbable  —  almost  impossible. 

My  wavering  mind  veered  with  each  moment  from 
the  conviction  that  Yolanda  was  the  princess  to  a 
feeling  of  certainty  that  she  was  not,  and  back  again. 
That  she  was  the  princess  seemed  at  one  moment 
indubitably  true ;  the  next  moment  it  appeared 
absurdly  impossible.  Still,  Castleman's  words  rang 
in  my  ears. 

I  was  glad  that  Max  was  riding  a  hundred  yards 
behind  me.  My  first  determination  was  that  he 
should  know  nothing  of  what  I  had  heard.  My  sec 
ond  was  that  he  and  I  should  leave  the  party  at  Metz. 
If  I  were  to  disclose  to  Max  my  suspicions  concerning 
Yolanda,  I  well  knew  that  it  would  be  beyond  my 
power  or  that  of  any  man  to  prevent  his  journeying 
to  Peronne. 

This  meeting  with  the  princess  far  from  home,  one 
might  suppose,  was  the  event  of  all  others  that  I 
desired,  but  the  situation  presented  many  points  to 
be  considered.  If  we  should  conduct  Yolanda  to 
Peronne  and  should  reach  that  city  after  the  duke's 
arrival,  there  would  be  untold  trouble  for  us,  if  (oh, 
that  mighty  if  I)  she  were  the  Princess  Mary.  I  was 
thoroughly  frightened,  since  I  could  not  know  what 
trouble  I  might  bring  to  Max.  We  might,  with  com 
parative  safety,  visit  Peronne  at  a  later  period ;  but  I 


104  YOLANDA 

sincerely  hoped  that  Yolanda  would  offer  Max  to  the 
Virgin  when  we  reached  Metz. 

If  Yolanda  were  the  princess,  and  if  the  duke 
with  his  intentions  regarding  her  immediate  mar 
riage,  should  reach  Peronne  and  find  his  daughter 
absent,  his  wrath  against  all  concerned  would  be  un 
appeasable.  If  he  should  learn  that  she  had  been 
absent  from  Peronne  on  this  journey,  even  though  she 
reached  home  before  her  father,  Castleman  would 
probably  lose  his  head  for  the  crime  of  taking  her, 
and  all  concerned  in  the  journey  might  meet  with 
evil  fortune.  Any  of  these  catastrophes  might  occur 
if  she  were  the  princess.  If  she  were  not  the  princess, 
some  other  great  catastrophe,  hinted  by  Castleman 
and  dreaded  by  Yolanda,  might  happen ;  and  it  is 
well  for  disinterested  persons  to  remain  away  from 
the  scene  of  impending  trouble. 

Aside  from  all  these  good  reasons  for  cutting  short 
our  journey  to  Peronne,  was  the  fact  that  our  motive 
for  going  there  had  ceased  to  exist.  The  princess 
was  soon  to  become  the  wife  of  the  Dauphin.  If 
Yolanda  were  not  the  princess,  there  was  still  good 
reason  why  we  should  abandon  her  at  Metz.  She 
was  dangerously  attractive  and  was  gaining  too  great 
a  hold  on  Max.  We  were  under  contract  to  escort 
Castleman  to  Peronne,  and  no  danger  should  prevent  us 
from  fulfilling  our  agreement ;  but  if  Castleman  should 
voluntarily  release  us,  our  obligation  would  cease. 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  105 

As  we  passed  under  the  portcullis  at  Strasburg, 
Max  spurred  his  horse  to  Yolanda's  side.  She 
neither  lifted  her  veil  nor  gave  any  sign  of  recogni 
tion.  The  news  of  impending  war  had  been  dis 
cussed,  and  Max  supposed  Yolanda  was  frightened. 
He  spoke  reassuringly  to  her,  and  she  answered :  — 

"  I  thank  you,  Sir  Max,  but  our  danger  is  greater 
than  you  know." 

It  was  four  o'clock  when  we  reached  Strasburg, 
where  we  stopped  at  The  Cygnet.  Soon  after  we 
entered  the  inn,  Twonette  and  Yolanda  went  forth, 
heavily  veiled,  and  walked  rapidly  in  the  direction 
of  the  cathedral.  Yolanda  was  going  to  make  her 
offering  to  the  Virgin  of  the  man  she  loved ;  surely 
woman  could  make  no  greater. 

When  Yolanda  and  Twonette  had  gone,  Castleman 
asked  me  to  assist  him  in  procuring  a  score  of  men- 
at-arms.  They  might  be  needed  in  crossing  Lorraine 
from  Strasburg  to  Metz. 

"  I  shall  travel  night  and  day  till  we  reach  home," 
said  Castleman.  "  I  have  news  of  war  that  hastens 
us,  and — and  it  is  most  important  that  Yolanda  should 
deliver  certain  papers  at  the  castle  before  the  duke 
arrives  at  Peronne.  If  she  reaches  the  castle  one  hour 
or  one  minute  after  the  duke,  the  results  will  be  evil 
beyond  remedy." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  there  may  be  no  delay,"  I  an 
swered,  believing  that  the  papers  were  an  invention 
of  Castleman's. 


106  YOLANDA 

"  Yes,"  responded  the  burgher ;  "  and,  Sir  Karl,  I 
deem  it  best  for  all  concerned  that  you  and  Sir  Max 
part  company  with  us  at  Metz.  I  thank  you  for 
your  services,  and  hope  you  will  honor  us  by  visit 
ing  Peronne  at  some  future  time.  But  now  it  is 
best  that  you  leave  us  to  pursue  our  journey  with 
out  you." 

Castleman's  suggestion  was  most  welcome  to  me, 
and  I  communicated  it  to  Max  when  I  returned  to 
the  inn.  He  was  sorrowful ;  but  I  found  that  he, 
too,  felt  that  he  should  part  from  Yolanda. 

Castleman  and  I  found  the  burgomaster,  to  whom 
we  paid  five  hundred  guilders  (a  sum  equal  to  his 
entire  annual  salary),  and  within  an  hour  a  troop 
of  twenty  men-at-arms  awaited  us  in  the  court 
yard  of  The  Cygnet.  Castleman  barely  touched  his 
meat  at  supper,  though  he  drank  two  bottles  of 
Johannesburg ;  Max  ate  little,  and  I  had  no  appetite 
whatever. 

When  Yolanda  returned,  I  said :  — 

"  Fraulein,  will  you  not  eat  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  care  to  eat,"  she  replied,  and  I  could 
easily  see  that  she  was  struggling  to  keep  back  the 
tears.  «  Let  us  resume  our  journey  at  once.  I  see 
the  men-at-arms  are  waiting." 

Our  rare  days  of  sunshine  had  surely  been  weather- 
breeders.  We  were  all  under  a  dark  cloud. 

We  left  Strasburg  by  the  north  gate,  and,  as  the 


WHO  IS  YOLANDA?  10f 

city  fell  back  of  us,  Max,  riding  by  my  side, 
asked :  — 

"  What  is  the  evil  news  that  has  cast  this  gloom 
over  Yolanda  and  good  Castleman  ?  If  our  friends 
are  in  danger,  I  would  not  leave  them  at  Metz,  and 
you  would  not  have  me  do  so." 

"  The  evil  news  grows  out  of  the  war,"  I  answered 
evasively.  "  I  heard  every  word  spoken  by  the  herald 
and  Castleman.  The  burgher  is  wise  to  hasten  home. 
If  he  delays  his  journey  even  for  a  day,  he  may  find 
Burgundy — especially  Lorraine — swarming  with  law 
less  men  going  to  the  various  rendezvous.  He  also 
tells  me  he  has  important  papers  that  must  be 
delivered  in  the  castle  before  the  duke  arrives  at 
Peronne." 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Max,  "  that  news  of  merely  a 
general  nature  should  produce  so  gloomy  an  effect ; 
but,  if  you  heard  all  that  De  Rose  said,  that  must 
be  the  only  cause." 

"  I  cannot  say,"  I  responded,  "  what  the  cause  may 
be.  All  I  know  is  that  De  Rose  spoke  of  the  impend 
ing  war,  and  said  that  the  duke  was  hastening  to 
Peronne  for  the  purpose  of  consummating  the  French 
marriage  at  once.  There  is  now  no  reason  why  we 
should  journey  to  Peronne.  My  air-castles  have 
crumbled  about  my  ears  in  fine  shape." 

"  I  am  not  sorry,  Karl,"  replied  Max.  "  During 
the  last  fortnight  I  have  changed.  Should  my  mar- 


108  YOLANDA 

riage  with  the  princess,  by  any  marvellous  chance, 
become  possible,  it  would  now  be  wholly  for  the  sake  of 
her  estates,  and  I  despise  myself  when  I  try  to  think 
that  I  wish  to  bring  it  about.  Ah,  Karl,  it  is  now 
impossible  even  to  hope  for  this  marriage,  and  I  tell 
you  I  am  glad  of  it.  We  will  see  the  world,  then 
we  will  return  to  Styria;  and  I  shall  thank  you  all  my 
life  for  having  made  a  man  of  me." 


CHAPTER  VI 

DUKE    CHARLES    THE   HASH 

OUR  caravan  travelled  with  the  mourn  fulness  of 
a  funeral  procession.  Early  in  the  evening  Max 
spoke  to  Yolanda  :  — 

"  I  hear  your  uncle  desires  Sir  Karl  and  me  to  leave 
you  at  Metz." 

"Yes,"  she  answered  dolefully,  hanging  her  head, 
«  we  part  at  Metz.  I  shall  see  you  there  before  I 
leave,  and  then  —  and  then  —  ah,  Sir  Max,  I  was 
wrong  and  you  were  right ;  there  is  no  hope." 

"  What  of  the  lady  who  gave  me  the  ring  ?  "  asked 
Max,  in  a  feeble  effort  to  banter  her. 

"  She  would  have  made  you  very  happy,  Sir  Max. 
Her  estates  would  have  compensated  for  all  losses 
elsewhere." 

"  You  know,  that  is  not  true,  Yolanda,"  said  Max, 
earnestly. 

"  I  am  not  sure,  Sir  Max,"  responded  the  girl, "  and 
do  not  wish  to  be  sure.  I  will  see  you  at  Metz,  and 
there  we  may  part.  It  is  our  fate.  We  must  not  be 
doleful,  Sir  Max,  we  must  be — we  must  be  — 
happy  and  brave."  Her  poor  little  effort  to  be  happy 
and  brave  was  piteous. 

109 


110  YOLANDA 

Castleman  soon  fell  back  with  Yolanda,  and  Max 
rode  forward  beside  me. 

At  midnight  we  offsaddled  by  a  stream  in  a  forest 
and  allowed  our  horses  and  mules  to  rest  until  sunrise. 
Then  we  took  up  our  journey  again,  and  by  forced 
marches  reached  Metz  one  morning  an  hour  before 
dawn.  We  waited  in  a  drizzling  rain  till  the  gates 
opened,  and,  after  a  long  parley  with  the  warder,  en 
tered  the  city.  We  were  all  nearly  exhausted,  and  our 
poor  mules  staggered  along  the  streets  hardly  able  to 
carry  their  burdens  another  step.  Two  had  fallen  a 
half-league  outside  of  Metz ;  and  three  others  fell 
with  their  loads  within  the  city  gates. 

Castleman  had  determined  to  stop  with  a  merchant 
friend,  and  after  what  seemed  a  long  journey  from  the 
gates  we  halted  at  the  merchant's  house.  Our  host  left 
us  in  his  parlor  while  he  went  to  arrange  for  break 
fast.  When  he  had  gone  Castleman  turned  to  me  :  — 

"You  and  Sir  Max  will,  if  you  please,  find  good 
lodging  at  the  Great  Tun.  My  friend  will  send  a  man 
in  advance  to  bespeak  your  comfort." 

Max  and  I  rose  to  leave,  and  Yolanda  offered  him 
her  hand,  saying  :  — 

"  It  may  be  that  we  are  to  part  here  at  Metz,  but 
I  will  send  for  you  soon  and  will  see  you  before  we 
leave,  and  —  and  —  "  She  could  not  speak  further; 
tears  were  in  her  eyes  and  her  voice.  It  was  not 
so  easy  after  all  to  be  happy  and  brave. 


DUKE  CHARLES  THE  KASH  111 

"  You  will  not  fail  to  send  for  me  ?  "  asked  Max, 
clinging  to  her  hand. 

"  I  will  not  fail,"  she  answered,  looking  up  timidly 
and  instantly  dropping  her  eyes.  "  Of  that  you  have 
better  assurance  than  you  will  ever  know." 

Castleman  followed  us  to  the  street  door  and 
handed  me  a  purse  of  gold. 

"  I  have  expected  to  part  from  you  here,"  he  said, 
"  and  it  may  be  so ;  but  I  fear  I  shall  need  your 
services  still  further.  My  mules  are  unfit  to  travel  at 
present;  they  may  never  be  fit  to  use;  surely  not  within 
a  fortnight.  I  must  find  other  sumpter  mules,  wait 
for  those  I  have  to  regain  their  strength,  or  leave  my 
goods  at  Metz.  My  fortune  is  invested  in  these  silks, 
and  if  I  leave  them  here,  I  shall  never  see  them  again. 
In  case  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  succeeds  in  rallying  his 
subjects  against  Burgundy,  I  shall  find  it  difficult  to 
buy  sumpter  mules  on  the  eve  of  war,  and  may  be 
compelled  to  remain  in  Metz  until  my  own  mules  are 
able  to  travel.  In  that  event  may  I  depend  upon  you 
and  Sir  Max  to  escort  my  niece  and  my  daughter  to 
Peronne  without  me  ?  " 

I  answered  promptly,  though  against  my  desires: — 

"  You  may  depend  on  us." 

At  midnight  I  was  aroused  by  a  knock  at  my  door. 
I  arose  and  admitted  Castleman. 

"  I  will  take  you  at  your  word,  Sir  Karl,"  said 
the  burgher.  "  I  cannot  obtain  sumpter  mules,  and  I 


112  YOLANDA 

shall  be  ruined  in  fortune  if  I  leave  my  silks  at  Metz. 
I  have  had  word  that  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  leaves 
Ghent  the  day  after  to-morrow  for  Peronne.  If  he 
leaves  late  in  the  day,  you  may,  by  starting  at  once, 
reach  Peronne  Castle  ahead  of  him.  His  journey 
will  be  shorter  than  yours  by  twenty-five  leagues, 
but  you  will  have  a  better  road.  If  you  travel 
with  all  haste,  you  may  be  able  to  take  Yolanda, 
with  —  with  the  important  papers,  to  the  castle  a 
half-day  before  my  lord  arrives  there.  Are  you 
ready  to  begin  the  journey  at  once  ?  " 

"  We  are  ready,"  answered  Max. 

"  I  will  meet  you  at  the  Deutsches  Thor  Gate 
within  an  hour,"  said  Castleman.  "My  daughter 
and  my  niece  will  be  there.  Since  you  are  to  travel 
rapidly  I  advise  a  small  retinue.  Your  squires  have 
proved  themselves  worthy  men,  and  I  feel  sure  you 
will  be  able  to  protect  your  charges." 

"  We'll  not  boast  of  what  we  shall  do,  good  Castle 
man,"  said  Max,  "  but  we'll  do  our  best." 

"  If  you  reach  Peronne  after  the  duke  arrives," 
said  Castleman,  "  I  advise  you  not  to  enter  the  gates 
of  the  city,  but  to  leave  Burgundy  at  once  and  with 
all  the  speed  you  can  make.  If  you  reach  Peronne 
before  the  duke,  I  advise  you  not  to  tarry ;  but  if  you 
determine  to  remain,  you  will  go  to  The  Mitre  —  a 
quiet  inn  kept  by  my  good  friend  Marcus  Grote.  I 
strongly  advise  you  not  to  remain  at  Peronne;  but  if 


DUKE  CHARLES   THE  EASH  113 

you  do  not  see  fit  to  follow  my  advice,  I  hope  you 
will  remain  close  at  The  Mitre  until  my  return, 
which,  I  trust,  will  be  within  three  weeks.  Danger 
will  attend  you  if  you  do  not  follow  my  suggestion. 
In  any  case,  Sir  Max,  I  hope  you  will  not  visit  my 
house.  My  words  may  seem  ungracious,  but  they  are 
for  your  good  and  mine.  When  I  return  to  Peronne, 
I  shall  be  happy  if  you  will  honor  my  poor  house ; 
but  until  my  return,  untold  trouble  to  many  persons 
may  follow  your  disregard  of  what  I  say." 

Castleman  then  departed,  and  we  immediately  ar 
ranged  for  the  journey. 

Max  and  I,  with  our  squires,  were  waiting  at  the 
Deutsches  Thor  Gate  when  Castleman  arrived  with 
Twonette,  Yolanda,  arid  a  guide.  I  knocked  at  the 
door  of  the  lodge  to  rouse  the  warder,  who,  of  course, 
was  asleep,  and  that  alert  guardian  of  a  drowsy  city 
came  grumbling  to  the  wicket. 

"  What  in  the  devil's  name  do  you  want  at  this 
time  of  night  ?  "  he  growled.  "  The  gates  won't  open 
till  dawn." 

"  Yes,  they  will,"  replied  Castleman.  "  I  have  the 
burgomaster's  order." 

"  I  open  the  gates  only  on  an  order  from  the  gov 
ernor  of  the  citadel,"  said  the  warder. 

"  I  have  not  that,  my  good  friend,"  responded 
Castleman,  "but  I  have  a  hundred  silver  marks  in 
my  purse." 


114  YOLANDA 

"Let  me  see  the  burgomaster's  order,"  said  the 
worthy  gatekeeper.  "  I  am  always  glad  to  be 
accommodating." 

Castleman  handed  over  the  order  and  the  purse,  and 
the  warder  pretended  to  read  the  paper  in  the  dark. 

"  I'll  open  the  gate  to  accommodate  you  and  to 
please  the  burgomaster,"  he  said. 

The  gates  screeched  upon  their  hinges,  and  every 
link  in  the  portcullis  chain  groaned  as  if  it  wished 
to  alarm  the  city.  When  the  portcullis  was  a-block, 
Max,  myself,  and  the  squires  mounted  our  horses. 
Yolanda  leaned  down  from  her  saddle  and,  placing 
her  arms  about  Castleman's  neck,  kissed  him.  Two- 
nette  followed  her  example ;  then  our  small  cavalcade 
passed  out  through  the  gate,  and  we  entered  on  our 
long,  hard  race  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. 

At  dawn  Yolanda  called  me  to  her  side. 

"  Our  guide  will  conduct  us  to  Cinq  Voies  on  the 
Somme,  eight  leagues  this  side  of  Peronne,"  she  said. 
"  There  we  shall  dismiss  him.  From  Cinq  Voies  the 
road  is  straight  to  Peronne  down  the  river.  Shall 
we  put  our  horses  to  the  gallop  ?  " 

To  her  last  suggestion  I  objected :  — 

"  We  have  no  relays.  These  horses  must  carry  us 
to  Peronne.  In  Styria  we  have  an  adage,  'If  you 
would  gallop  on  a  long  journey,  walk  your  horse.' ': 

"  In  Styria  !  "  exclaimed  Yolanda,  laughing.  "  You 
told  me  you  were  from  Italy." 


DUKE   CHARLES   THE  EASH  115 

"  So  I  am,"  I  replied. 

"  Now  you  say  we  have  an  adage  in  Styria,"  she 
returned,  amused  at  my  discomfiture.  "  I  hope  you 
have  not  been  wandering  from  the  path  of  truth  in 
your  long  journey,  Sir  Karl." 

"  No  farther  than  yourself,  Fraulein,"  I  answered. 

A  frown  came  instantly  to  her  face  and,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  she  retorted  :  — 

"  Ah,  but  I  am  a  woman ;  I  am  privileged  to 
wander  a  little  way  from  the  narrow  road.  A  man 
may  protect  himself  with  his  sword  and  battle-axe, 
and  need  never  stray.  A  woman's  defence  lies  in  her 
wit  and  her  tongue."  The  frown  deepened,  and 
she  turned  sharply  upon  me :  "  But  in  what  respect, 
pray,  have  I  wandered?  I  have  not  spoken  a  word 
to  you  which  has  not  been  the  exact  truth.  If  I  have 
left  anything  untold,  it  is  because  I  do  not  wish  to 
tell  it,  in  which  case,  of  course,  you  would  not  wish 
to  pry." 

Her  audacity  amused  me,  and  though  I  knew  I 
ought  to  hold  my  tongue,  I  could  not  resist  saying :  — 

"  I  have  asked  no  questions,  Fraulein." 

Yolanda  cast  a  surprised  glance  toward  me  and 
then  broke  into  a  merry  laugh. 

"  That  is  to  say  /  have  asked  too  many  questions. 
Good  for  you,  Sir  Karl !  I  have  had  the  worst  of 
this  encounter.  I  will  ask  no  more  questions  nor 
give  you  further  cause  to  wander  from  the  truth. 


116  YOLAKDA 

Your  memory,  Sir  Karl,  is  poor.  'To  be  a  good  liar, 
one  must  have  a  good  memory,'  as  King  Louis  of 
France  has  said." 

"  Ask  all  the  questions  you  wish,  Fraulein,"  I 
responded  penitently,  "  I  will  answer  with  the 
truth." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  ask  questions,"  she  said, 
giving  me  a  side  glance  full  of  sauciness.  "  I  already 
know  all  that  I  wish  to  know." 

I  could  not  resist  saying :  — 

"  Perhaps,  Fraulein,  I  know  quite  as  much  about 
you  as  you  know  about  us." 

"  There  is  little  to  know  about  me  that  is  really 
worth  while,  but  what  little  there  is  I  sincerely  hope 
you  do  not  know,"  she  replied  half  angrily.  «  If  you 
do  know  anything  which  I  have  left  untold,  or  if,  in 
your  vanity,  you  think  you  have  discovered  some 
great  mystery  concerning  me,  I  advise  you  to  keep 
your  supposed  knowledge  to  yourself.  The  day  that 
I  am  made  sure  you  know  too  much,  our  friendship 
ceases,  and  that,  Sir  Karl,  would  give  me  pain.  I 
hope  it  would  pain  you." 

I  at  once  began  an  orderly  though  hasty  retreat. 

"  I  do  not  know  to  what  you  refer  concerning  your 
self,"  I  explained.  «  All  I  know  about  you  is  that 
you  are  Fraulein  Castleman,  and  a  very  charming 
person,  whom  I  would  have  for  my  friend,  if  that 
be  possible.  I  spoke  but  jestingly.  I  have  often 


DUKE  CHAKLES   THE  EASH  117 

doubted  that  you  are  a  burgher  maiden,  but  there 
my  knowledge  ceases ;  and  I  am  willing  that  it  should 
so  remain  till  you  see  fit  to  enlighten  me." 

"There  is  little  knowledge  in  doubt,"  said  Yolanda, 
with  a  nervous  laugh,  "  though  a  doubt  usually  pre 
cedes  wisdom." 

Although  I  was  looking  at  my  horse's  ears,  I  could 
see  the  light  of  her  eyes  as  she  watched  me  inquir 
ingly.  After  a  long  pause  she  stroked  her  horse's 
mane  with  her  whip,  and  said,  musingly :  — 

"  A  man  should  seek  to  know  only  the  languages, 
philosophy,  and  other  useful  learning.  Useless  knowl 
edge  has  cost  many  a  man  his  head." 

After  a  long  pause  she  turned  to  me  with  a  broad 
smile :  — 

"  But  it  is  usually  not  dangerous  so  long  as  it  does 
not  lodge  in  the  tongue." 

I  replied  quickly  :  — 

"  Fraulein,  when  my  tongue  makes  a  fool  of  me,  I 
pray  God  I  may  lose  it." 

"  God  save  all  fools  by  a  like  fate,"  she  answered. 

I  was  sure  she  did  not  mean  to  include  me  in  the 
category  of  fools. 

This  conversation  revealed  to  me  two  facts :  first, 
I  learned  that  by  some  means  —  possibly  the  ring 
Max  wore  —  this  girl,  Yolanda,  whoever  she  might  be, 
knew  Max.  Second,  I  discovered  in  myself  a  danger 
ous  propensity  to  talk,  and  of  all  sure  roads  to  ruin 


118  YOLANDA 

the  tongue  is  the  surest.  A  man's  vanity  prompts 
him  to  be  witty ;  hatred  prompts  him  to  cut  his 
enemy,  and  his  love  of  truth  often  prompts  him  to 
speak  it  at  the  wrong  time.  These  three  motives 
combined  often  prompt  him  to  lose  his  head.  Max 
and  I  were  on  dangerous  ground,  and  one  untimely 
error  might  make  it  perilous. 

We  travelled  rapidly,  and  near  midnight  of  the 
second  day  out  of  Metz  we  reached  Cinq  Voies  on  the 
Somme.  The  village,  consisting  of  a  large  inn,  a 
church,  a  priest's  house,  and  a  farrier's  shop,  is  situate 
at  the  meeting  of  five  roads,  from  which  the  hamlet 
takes  its  name.  One  road  led  down  from  Cambrai  and 
Ghent  in  the  north,  one  from  Liege  in  the  northeast, 
and  the  one  over  which  we  had  travelled  from  Metz 
came  out  of  the  southeast.  Two  roads  led  westward 
to  Peronne.  One  followed  the  right  bank  of  the 
Somme,  passed  Peronne,  and  thence  on  to  Amiens. 
Another  road  followed  the  left  bank  of  the  Somme, 
touched  Peronne,  and  thence  ran  southwesterly  to 
Paris. 

When  we  reached  Cinq  Voies  on  the  Somme  — 
within  eight  leagues  of  Peronne — we  halted  for  supper, 
very  tired  and  weary.  While  supper  was  preparing, 
we  held  a  consultation,  and  determined  to  rest  there 
for  the  night.  I  advised  against  this  course,  believ 
ing  that  the  duke  would  pass  that  way  on  his  road 
from  Ghent  to  Peronne.  But  Yolanda's  sweet  face 


DUKE   CHARLES  THE  KASH  119 

was  pinched  by  weariness,  and  Twonette  was  sound 
asleep.  Our  horses,  I  feared,  might  fail,  and  leave 
us  hopelessly  in  the  lurch.  Therefore,  I  gave  the 
command  to  offsaddle,  and  we  halted  at  the  inn  for 
the  night. 

Our  host  told  me  his  house  was  full  of  guests 
who  had  arrived  two  hours  before,  but  he  found 
a  room  for  Yolanda  and  Twonette,  and  told  Max 
and  me  to  sleep,  if  we  could,  on  the  tap-room 
floor.  After  an  hour  on  the  hard  boards  I  went  to 
the  stable,  and,  rousing  a  groom,  gave  him  a  silver 
crown  for  the  privilege  of  sleeping  on  a  wisp  of  hay. 
I  fell  asleep  at  once  and  must  have  slept  like  the 
dead,  for  the  dawn  was  breaking  when  one  of  our 
squires  wakened  me.  I  could  not  believe  that  I  had 
been  sleeping  five  minutes,  but  the  dim  morning  light 
startled  me,  and  I  ordered  the  horses  saddled. 

I  hastened  to  the  inn  and  wakened  Max,  to  whose 
well-covered  bones  a  board  was  as  soft  as  a  feather 
bed.  While  I  was  speaking  to  him,  I  heard  a  noise 
in  an  adjoining  room  and  saw  the  door  opening. 
Max  and  I  barely  escaped  through  an  open  arch  when 
a  commanding  figure  clad  in  light  armor  entered  the 
tap-room. 

I  had  not  seen  Charles  of  Burgundy  since  he  was  a 
boy  —  he  was  then  Count  of  Charolois  —  but  I  at 
once  knew  with  terrifying  certainty  that  I  looked  on 
the  most  dreaded  man  in  Europe.  He  had  changed 


120  YOLANDA 

greatly  since  I  last  had  seen  him.  He  was  then 
beardless  ;  now  he  wore  a  beard  that  reached  almost  to 
his  belt,  and  I  should  not  have  recognized  in  him  the 
young  Count  of  Charolois.  There  was,  however,  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  concerning  his  identity. 

Even  had  I  failed  to  see  the  angry  scar  on  his  neck, 
of  which  I  had  often  heard,  or  had  I  failed  to  note  the 
lack  of  upper  teeth  (a  fact  known  to  all  Europe)  which 
gave  his  face  an  expression  of  savagery,  I  should  have 
recognized  him  by  his  mien.  There  was  not  another 
man  like  him  in  all  the  world,  and  I  trust  there  never 
will  be.  His  face  wore  an  expression  of  ferocity 
that  was  almost  brutal.  The  passions  of  anger,  arro 
gance,  and  hatred  were  marked  on  every  feature ;  but 
over  all  there  was  the  stamp  of  an  almost  superhuman 
strength,  the  impress  of  an  iron  will,  the  expression 
of  an  exhaustless  energy,  and  the  majesty  of  a  satanic 
bravery.  If  Yolanda  was  the  daughter  of  this  terrible 
man,  and  if  he  should  discover  that  I  had  her  hidden 
in  the  room  above  his  head,  I  should  never  eat  another 
breakfast.  Truly,  Max  and  I  were  on  perilous  ground. 

Max  remained  in  concealment,  and  I  climbed  the 
stairs,  two  steps  at  a  time,  to  Yolanda's  room.  I 
gently  knocked,  and  received  a  sleepy  response. 

"  Rise  at  once,"  I  whispered.  "  I  must  speak  to 
you  instantly." 

"  Enter  —  we  are  already  dressed,"  answered  Yo 
landa. 


DUKE  CHARLES  THE  BASH  121 

When  I  entered  she  had  risen  from  the  bed  and 
was  rubbing  her  eyes. 

"  We  were  so  tired  we  slept  in  our  garments. 
Don't  we  show  it  ? "  said  Yolanda. 

Her  hands  were  above  her  head,  vainly  endeavor 
ing  to  arrange  her  hair,  which  had  fallen  in  a  great 
tumble  of  dark  curls  over  her  shoulder.  Rest  had 
flushed  her  cheeks,  and  her  lips  and  her  eyes  were  moist 
with  the  dew  of  sleep.  Though  my  business  was  ur 
gent  I  could  not  resist  exclaiming :  — 

"  Ah,  Fraulein,  you  surely  are  beautiful." 

"  I  thank  you,  Sir  Karl,"  she  answered,  flashing  a 
smile  upon  me.  "  You  may  kiss  my  hand." 

She  offered  me  her  hand  and  asked  :  — 

"  But  what  is  your  news  ?  " 

While  she  spoke  I  heard  voices  and  the  tramping  of 
hoofs  beneath  the  window  in  front  of  the  inn,  and 
turned  to  look.  I  quickly  drew  away  from  the  win 
dow  and  beckoned  Yolanda  :  — 

"  Come  here,  Fraulein." 

She  came  to  my  side,  and  as  she  looked  out  upon 
the  road  two  men  emerged  from  the  inn  door.  One 
of  them  was  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  She  clutched 
my  arm  and  whispered  excitedly  :  — 

"  Watch  them,  Sir  Karl !  Note  the  road  they  take  ! 
If  they  go  by  the  right,  we  shall  take  the  left.  We 
must  reach  Peronne  Castle  before  the  duke.  Death 
itself  hangs  upon  the  issue,  Sir  Karl." 


122 


YOLANDA 


I  watched  till  the  duke  and  all  his  people  had  left 
the  inn  ;  then  I  followed  till  I  saw  them  take  the 
road  leading  down  the  right  bank  of  the  Somme. 
When  I  returned  to  the  inn,  I  paid  the  score,  and  gave 
each  member  of  our  little  party  a  boule  of  bread  to  be 
eaten  as  we  rode ;  and  within  five  minutes  after  the 
duke's  departure  we  were  fording  the  Somme  to  take 
the  left  bank  for  Peronue. 


CHAPTER   VII 

A   RACE    WITH    THE    DUKE 

NEITHER  road  clung  to  the  river  in  all  its  wind 
ings,  but  at  too  frequent  intervals  both  touched 
the  stream  at  the  same  points.  At  places  the  roads 
hugged  the  Somme,  separated  only  by  its  width  — 
perhaps  two  hundred  yards.  These  would  be  our 
danger  points.  I  did  not  know  them,  and  Yolanda's 
knowledge  of  the  road  was  imperfect. 

Soon  after  leaving  Cinq  Voies,  the  road  on  the 
right  bank  —  the  one  taken  by  the  duke  —  gained  a 
mile  over  the  road  on  the  left  by  cutting  across  a 
great  bend  in  the  river  around  which  we  had  to  travel. 
We  therefore  lost  the  duke's  cavalcade  at  the  outset. 

Hoping  to  pass  the  duke  before  the  roads  came  again 
within  sight  of  each  other,  we  urged  our  horses  to 
full  speed.  But  the  duke  also  was  travelling  rapidly, 
as  we  learned  when  we  reached  th&  first  point  of 
contact.  Should  the  duke's  men  see  us  they  would  cer 
tainly  hail.  Four  men  in  armor  and  two  ladies,  travel 
ling  the  road  to  Peronne  would  not  be  allowed  to  pass 
unchallenged.  Fortunately,  just  before  the  danger 
point,  a  clump  of  trees  and  underbushes  grew  between 

123 


124  YOLANDA 

our  road  and  the  river.  Max,  who  was  riding  a  hun 
dred  yards  in  advance,  suddenly  stopped  and  held  up 
his  hand  warningly.  We  halted  immediately,  and  Max 
turned  back  to  us,  guiding  his  horse  to  the  roadside 
to  avoid  raising  a  dust-cloud. 

We  listened  in  silence,  and  I  beckoned  the  squires 
to  our  sides.  The  men  of  our  little  party  all  dis 
mounted  and  stood  by  their  horses'  heads,  ready  to 
strike  the  noses  of  the  animals  should  they  offer  to 
salute  the  horses  across  the  river  with  a  neigh.  Had 
not  our  danger  been  so  great  it  would  have  been 
amusing  to  see  each  man,  with  uplifted  hand,  watch 
ing  the  eyes  of  his  horse  as  intently  as  though  they 
were  the  eyes  of  his  lady-love.  Yolanda  laughed  de 
spite  the  danger,  but  covered  her  mouth  with  her 
hand  when  I  frowned  warningly. 

Presently  we  heard  the  tramping  of  horses  and 
the  voices  of  men  across  the  river,  and  soon  the  duke 
approached  at  a  canter.  I  could  not  help  speculating 
on  the  consequences  should  His  Grace  know  that 
Yolanda  was  watching  him  —  if  Yolanda  were  his 
daughter. 

That  « if  "  would  surely  be  the  death  of  me. 

When  the  duke  had  passed  a  little  way  down  the 
road,  I  peered  through  the  bushes  and  saw  the  dust- 
cloud  ahead  of  us. 

We  could  not  venture  from  our  hiding-place  till 
the  duke  was  out  of  sight,  and  by  the  delay  we  lost  a 


A  RACE   WITH   THE  DUKE  125 

good  half-league  in  our  race.  I  asked  Yolanda  if  she 
knew  how  far  it  was  to  the  next  point  of  contact. 
She  did  -  not  know,  but  I  learned  from  a  peasant 
that  the  river  made  a  great  bend,  and  that  our  road 
gained  nearly  a  league  over  the  other  before  each 
again  touched  the  river.  This  was  our  great 
chance. 

We  put  our  horses  to  their  best ;  and  when  we  again 
reached  the  river,  Max,  who  was  riding  in  advance, 
announced  that  the  other  cavalcade  was  not  in  sight. 
If  it  had  passed,  our  race  was  lost ;  if  it  had  not,  we 
felt  that  we  could  easily  ride  into  Peronne  ahead  of 
Duke  Charles.  At  that  point  the  roads  followed  the 
river  within  a  stone's  throw  of  each  other  for  a  great 
distance.  If  the  duke  had  not  reached  this  point, 
our  need  for  haste  was  greater  than  ever  before.  We 
must  be  beyond  the  open  stretch  before  the  other 
cavalcade  should  come  up  to  it. 

Our  poor  blown  horses  were  loath  to  run,  but  we 
urged  them  to  it.  When  we  had  covered  half  this 
open  road,  we  took  to  the  sod  at  the  roadside  to  avoid 
raising  a  telltale  cloud  of  dust.  After  a  hard  gallop 
we  reached  a  forest  where  the  road  again  left  the 
river.  Here  we  halted  to  breathe  our  horses  and  to 
watch  the  road  on  the  right  bank.  After  ten  min 
utes  we  became  uneasy  and  began  to  fear  that  the 
duke's  cavalcade  had  passed  us,  but  Max  insisted 
that  our  fears  were  groundless. 


126  YOLANDA 

"  Their  dust  could  not  have  settled  so  quickly,"  he 
declared.  "  We  should  see  at  least  traces  of  it. 
They  cannot  have  passed." 

"  One  cannot  help  believing,"  said  Yolanda,  mus 
ingly,  "  that  ther?  are  men  who  command  the  ele 
ments.  One  would  almost  say  they  make  the  rain  to 
fall  or  to  cease,  the  wind  to  rise  or  to  drop,  to  suit 
their  purposes,  and  the  dust  to  lie  quietly  beneath 
their  horses'  feet.  I  pray  God  we  may  soon  know, 
else  I  shall  surely  die  of  suspense." 

"  There  are  also  some  persons,  Fraulein,  whom  God 
answers  quickly,"  said  Max,  looking  under  his  hand 
down  the  road.  "  Do  you  see  yonder  dust-cloud  ?  It 
is  a  good  two  miles  back  of  us." 

"  It  may  not  be  the  duke,"  said  Yolanda,  doubt- 
ingly. 

«  Let  us  trust  it  is,"  said  Max,  "  and  lose  no  more 
time  here." 

We  watered  our  horses  at  a  small  brook  and 
entered  the  forest,  feeling  that  our  race  was  won. 
The  exultation  of  victory  was  upon  Yolanda,  and  her 
buoyant  spirits  mounted  to  the  skies.  All  fear  and 
gloom  had  left  her.  She  laughed  and  sang,  and  the 
sunshine  of  her  humor  filled  all  our  hearts  with  delight. 
Since  leaving  Metz  we  had  travelled  so  rapidly,  and 
a  cloud  of  uncertainty  and  fear  was  so  constantly 
over  us,  that  Yolanda  had  spoken  little  to  Max  or  to 
any  one ;  but  now  that  victory  was  in  her  grasp,  she 


A  EACE  WITH  THE  DUKE  127 

intended  to  waste  not  one  moment  more  in  troubled 
thoughts  and  painful  fears. 

"  Ride  beside  me,  Sir  Max,"  she  cried,  beckon 
ing  him  as  if  she  were  a  great  princess  and  he  her 
page.  Max  spurred  his  horse  to  her  side,  and  after  a 
moment  Twonette  fell  back  with  me.  I  overheard 
all  that  was  said  between  Max  and  Yolanda,  and 
though  I  do  not  pretend  to  quote  accurately,  I  will 
give  you  the  substance  of  their  conversation. 

"  I  cannot  help  laughing,"  she  said,  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word,  "  over  our  tragic  parting  at  Metz. 
We  were  separated  a  whole  day !  " 

"  But  we  supposed  it  was  to  be  for  a  very  long 
time,"  said  Max.  "  We  —  that  is,  I  —  feared  I  should 
never  see  you  again.  As  it  was,  the  day  seemed  long 
to  me,  Fraulein." 

The  girl  laughed  joyously.  She  had,  you  remember, 
offered  Max  to  the  Virgin  at  Strasburg.  Perhaps 
part  of  her  joy  was  because  the  Queen  of  Heaven  had 
returned  him  to  her. 

"  I  should  like  to  try  a  separation  for  many  days," 
she  said. 

"  You  will  soon  have  the  opportunity,"  returned 
Max,  with  wounded  vanity.  She  paid  no  heed  to 
his  remark,  and  continued  :  — 

"  The  second  day  would  not  seem  so  long  to  you. 
The  third  would  be  still  shorter,  and  at  the  end  of  a 
fortnight  —  nay,  at  the  end  of  a  week  —  you  would 


128  YOLANDA 

wonder  how  you  were  ever  brought  to  fix  your  eyes  on 
a  poor  burgher  girl,  even  for  a  passing  moment  —  you, 
a  great  lord.  You  see,  I  have  no  vast  estates  to  hold 
you  constant,  such  as  those  possessed  by  the  forward 
lady  who  sent  you  the  letter  and  the  ring.  Do  you 
know,  Sir  Max,  if  I  were  very  fond  of  you,  —  if  1 
were  your  sweetheart, — I  should  be  jealous  of  this 
brazen  lady,  very  jealous." 

There  was  a  glint  in  her  eyes  that  might  have 
caused  one  to  believe  the  jealousy  already  existed. 

"Your  raillery  ill  becomes  you,"  said  Max,  half 
sullenly.  "  If  I  forget  my  rank  and  hold  it  of  small 
account  for  your  sake,  you  should  not  make  a  jest 
of  it." 

You  see,  he  had  not  entirely  washed  out  of  himself 
the  ceremonious  starch  of  Hapsburg. 

She  glanced  quickly  toward  him  and  answered 
poutingly :  — 

"  If  you  don't  like  my  jesting,  Sir  Max,  you  may 
leave  me  to  ride  alone." 

. "  You  asked  me  to  ride  with  you,"  returned  Max, 
"but  if  you  have  changed  your  mind  and  insist  on 
being  ill-tempered,  I  will  —  " 

She  reached  out  her  hand,  and,  grasping  his  bridle- 
reins,  threw  them  over  the  pommel  of  her  saddle. 

"  Now  let  me  see  what  you  will  do,  my  great 
Lord  Somebody,"  she  cried  defiantly.  "You  shall 
not  only  ride  beside  me,  but  you  shall  also  listen 


A  RACE  WITH   THE   DUKE  129 

good-humoredly  to  my  jests  when  I  am  pleased  to 
make  them,  and  bear  with  my  ill-humor  when  I  am 
pleased  to  be  ill-humored." 

Max  left  the  bridle-reins  in  her  hand,  but  did  not 
smile.  She  was  not  to  be  driven  from  her  mood. 

"  You  are  such  a  serious  person,  Sir  Max,  that  you 
must,  at  times,  feel  yourself  a  great  weight  —  almost 
burdensome  —  to  carry  about."  She  laughed,  though 
his  resentment  had  piqued  her,  and  there  was  a  dash 
of  anger  in  her  words.  "Ponderous  persons  are 
often  ridiculous  and  are  apt  to  tire  themselves  with 
their  own  weight  —  no,  Sir  Max,  you  can't  get  away. 
I  have  your  reins." 

"  I  can  dismount,"  returned  Max,  "  and  leave  you 
my  horse  to  lead." 

He  turned  to  leave  his  saddle,  but  she  caught  his 
arm,  rode  close  to  his  side,  and,  slipping  her  hand 
down  his  sleeve,  clasped  his  hand  —  if  a  hand  so 
small  as  hers  can  be  said  to  clasp  one  so  large  as  his. 

A  beautiful  woman  is  born  with  a  latent  conscious 
ness  of  her  power  over  the  subjugated  sex.  Max 
found  in  the  soft  touch  of  the  girl's  hand  a  wonder 
ful  antidote  to  her  sharp  words.  She  continued  to 
hold  his  hand  as  compensation  while  she  said, 
laughing  nervously :  — 

"  Sir  Max,  you  are  still  young.  A  friend  would 
advise  you:  Never  lose  a  chance  to  laugh,  even 
though  it  be  at  your  own  expense.  There  will 


130  YOLAKDA 

always  be  opportunity  to  grieve  and  be  gloomy. 
I  tell  you  frankly.  Sir  Max,  I  almost  wept  when  I 
bade  you  good-by  at  Metz.  Now,  I  am  telling  you 
my  state  secret  and  am  giving  you  more  than  you 
have  asked." 

Max  joyfully  interrupted  her :  — 

"  I  can  forgive  you  all  your  raillery,  Fraulein,  for 
that  admission." 

"  Yes,  I  confess  it  is  a  very  important  admis 
sion,"  she  said,  in  half-comic  seriousness,  "  but  you 
see,  I  really  did  weep  when  I  parted  from  my  great 
mastiff,  Caesar,  at  Peronne." 

The  saucy  turn  was  made  so  quickly  that  its 
humor  took  Max  unawares,  and  he  laughed. 

"  There,  there  !  Sir  Max,  there  is  hope  for  you," 
she  cried  exultantly.  Then  she  continued,  stealing 
a  side  glance  at  him,  "  I  loved  Caesar  very,  very 
much." 

There  was  a  satisfying  implication  in  her  laughing 
words,  owing  to  the  fact  that  she  had  almost  wept 
at  Metz.  Max  was  eager  to  take  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  her  words  gave  him,  for  his  caution  was 
rapidly  oozing  away ;  but  he  had  placed  a  seal  on 
his  lips,  and  they  were  shut  —  at  least,  for  the  time. 
His  silence  needed  no  explanation  to  Yolanda,  and 
she  continued  laughingly  :  — 

"Yes,  I  almost  wept.  Perhaps  I  did  weep.  I 
will  not  gay  truly  that  I  did  not,  Sir  Max,  but 


A  KACE   WITH  THE  DUKE  131 

within  an  hour  I  was  laughing  at  my  foolish  self 
and  feared  that  you,  too,  would  be  laughing  at  me. 
I  wondered  if  in  all  the  world  there  was  another 
burgher  maiden  so  great  a  fool  as  to  lift  her  eyes  to 
a  mighty  lord,  or  to  think  that  he  could  lower  his 
eyes  to  her  with  true  intent." 

At  that  point  in  the  conversation  I  felt  that  the 
seal  upon  Max's  lips  would  not  stand  another  attack. 
It  was  sure  to  melt ;  so  I  rode  to  Yolanda's  side  and 
interrupted  the  interesting  colloquy. 

Max  supposed  the  girl  to  be  of  the  burgher  class, 
and  if  by  any  chance  she  were  Mary  of  Burgundy, 
he  might  ruin  his  future,  should  he  become  too  in 
sistent  upon  his  rank  in  explaining  the  reasons  why 
he  could  not  follow  the  path  of  his  inclinations.  He 
might  make  himself  ridiculous ;  and  that  mistake  will 
ruin  a  man  with  any  woman,  especially  if  she  be 
young  and  much  inclined  to  laugh. 

During  the  foregoing  conversation  we  had  been 
travelling  at  a  six-mile  canter.  The  day  was  warm, 
and  I  suggested  breathing  the  horses  in  the  shade  of 
the  forest. 

"  I  believe  we  are  approaching  the  river,"  I  said, 
"  and  we  should  rest  the  horses  before  taking  a  dash 
over  the  open  road." 

Yolanda  assented  —  in  a  manner  she  seemed  to 
have  taken  command  of  the  party  —  and  we  halted 
under  the  trees.  Max  rode  forward  to  a  point  from 


132  YOLANDA 

which  he  could  view  the  other  road,  and  waved  his 
hand  to  let  us  know  that  the  duke  was  not  in  sight. 
We  immediately  put  spurs  to  our  horses  and  covered 
the  stretch  of  open  road  by  the  river  in  a  short,  brisk 
gallop.  On  leaving  the  road  again  we  saw  no  indi 
cation  of  the  duke's  cavalcade.  Evidently  the  race 
was  ours  by  an  easy  canter.  From  that  point  to 
within  two  miles  of  Peronne,  Yolanda's  song  was  as 
joyous  as  that  of  a  wooing  bird.  The  sun  beat  down 
upon  us,  and  blinding  clouds  of  dust  rose  from  every 
plunge  of  our  horses'  hoofs ;  but  Yolanda's  song  trans 
formed  our  hot,  wearisome  journey  into  a  triumphant 
march.  Happiness  seemed  to  radiate  from  her  and 
to  furnish  joy  for  all. 

For  a  stretch  of  two  miles  up  river  from  Peronne 
the  roads  approached  each  other,  but,  owing  to  an  in 
tervening  marsh,  they  were  fully  half  a  mile  apart. 
We,  or  at  least  Yolanda,  had  apparently  forgotten 
the  duke  when,  near  the  hour  of  eight  in  the  morn 
ing,  we  approached  the  marsh ;  but  when  we  entered 
the  open  country  we  saw,  to  our  consternation,  the 
duke's  cavalcade  within  one  mile  of  Peronne.  Where 
they  had  passed  us  we  did  not  know,  nor  did  we 
stop  to  consider.  They  were  five  minutes  ahead,  and 
if  we  could  not  enter  Peronne  in  advance  of  them,  it 
were  no  worse  had  they  been  a  day  before  us. 

Yolanda  cast  one  frightened  glance  toward  the 
duke's  party,  and  struck  her  horse  a  blow  with  her 


A  RACE   WITH  THE   DUKE  133 

whip  that  sent  it  bounding  forward  at  a  furious 
gallop.  We  reached  the  river  and  were  crossing  as 
the  duke  entered  Cambrai  Gate  —  the  north  entrance 
to  the  city.  We  would  enter  by  the  gate  on  the  south 
known  as  the  Somme  Gate ;  Cambrai  Gate  was 
nearer  the  castle. 

The  duke,  I  supposed,  would  go  directly  to  the 
castle ;  where  Yolanda  would  go  I  could  not  guess. 
From  outside  the  Somme  Gate  we  saw  the  duke  enter 
Cambrai,  but  after  we  had  passed  under  the  arch  we 
could  not  see  him  for  a  time  because  of  intervening 
houses.  The  huge,  grim  pile  of  stone  known  as 
Peronne  Castle  loomed  ominously  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  small  town.  Yolanda  veiled  herself 
before  passing  under  the  gate  and  hastened,  though 
without  conspicuous  speed,  toward  the  castle. 

I  afterward  learned  that  there  was  but  one  entrance 
to  the  castle  from  the  town.  It  was  known  as  the 
Postern,  though  it  had  a  portcullis  and  a  drawbridge 
spanning  the  moat.  To  the  Postern  the  duke  took 
his  way,  as  we  could  see  at  intervals  by  looking 
down  cross  streets.  Yolanda  did  not  follow  him. 
She  held  her  course  down  a  narrow  street  flanked 
by  overhanging  eaves.  Looking  down  this  street,  I 
could  see  that  it  terminated  abruptly  at  the  castle 
wall,  which  rose  dark  and  unbroken  sixty  feet  above 
the  ground. 

At  the  end  of  this  street  a  stone  footbridge  spanned 


134  YOLANDA 

the  moat,  leading  to  a  strip  of  ground  perhaps  one 
hundred  yards  broad  and  two  hundred  long  that  lay 
between  the  moat  and  the  castle  wall.  At  either  end 
of  this  strip  the  moat  again  turned  to  the  castle.  The 
Cologne  River  joined  the  moat  at  the  north  end  of  this 
tract  of  ground  and  flowed  on  by  the  castle  wall  to 
the  Somme.  In  a  grove  of  trees  stood  a  large  two- 
story  house  of  time-darkened  stone,  built  against  the 
castle  wall.  One  could  not  leave  the  strip  of  ground 
save  by  the  stone  footbridge,  unless  by  swimming  the 
moat  or  scaling  the  walls. 

When  we  reached  the  footbridge,  Yolanda  and 
Twonette,  without  a  word  of  farewell,  urged  their 
horses  across,  and,  springing  from  their  saddles, 
hurriedly  entered  the  house.  Max  and  I  turned  our 
horses'  heads,  and,  as  we  were  leaving  the  foot 
bridge,  saw  the  duke's  cavalcade  enter  the  Postern, 
which  was  perhaps  three  hundred  yards  back  and 
north  of  the  strip  on  which  stood  the  House  under 
the  Wall. 

To  reach  the  Postern  in  the  castle  wall  from  the 
footbridge  one  must  go  well  up  into  the  town  and 
cross  the  great  bridge  that  spans  the  Cologne ;  then 
back  along  the  north  bank  of  the  river  by  the  street 
that  leads  to  the  Postern.  From  the  House  under 
the  Wall  to  the  Postern,  by  way  of  the  Cologne 
bridge,  is  a  half-hour's  walk,  though  in  a  direct  line, 
as  the  crow  flies,  it  may  be  less  than  three  hundred 


A  RACE   WITH   THE   DUKE  135 

yards.  Neither  Max  nor  I  knew  whether  our  journey 
had  been  a  success  or  a  failure. 

We  rode  leisurely  back  to  the  centre  of  the  town, 
and  asked  a  carter  to  direct  us  to  Marcus  Grote's  inn, 
The  Mitre.  We  soon  found  it,  and  gave  mine  host  the 
letter  that  we  bore  from  Castleman.  Although  the 
hour  of  nine  in  the  morning  had  not  yet  struck,  Max 
and  I  eagerly  sought  our  beds,  and  did  not  rise  till 
late  in  the  afternoon.  The  next  morning  we  dis 
missed  our  squires,  fearing  they  might  talk.  We 
paid  the  men,  gave  them  each  a  horse,  and  saw 
them  well  on  their  road  back  to  Switzerland.  They 
were  Swiss  lads,  and  could  not  take  themselves  out 
of  Burgundy  fast  enough  to  keep  pace  with  their 
desires. 

Notwithstanding  Castleman's  admonition,  Max  de 
termined  to  remain  in  Peronne ;  not  for  the  sake  of 
Mary  the  princess,  but  for  the  smile  of  Yolanda  the 
burgher  girl.  I  well  knew  that  opposition  would  avail 
nothing,  and  was  quite  willing  to  be  led  by  the  unseen 
hand  of  fate. 

The  evening  of  the  second  day  after  our  arrival  I 
walked  out  at  dusk  and  by  accident  met  my  friend, 
the  Sieur  d'Hymbercourt.  He  it  was  to  whom  my 
letters  concerning  Max  had  been  written,  and  who 
had  been  responsible  for  the  offer  of  Mary's  hand. 
He  recognized  me  before  I  could  avoid  him,  so  I 
offered  my  hand  and  he  gave  me  kindly  welcome. 


136  YOLANDA 

"By  what  good  fortune  are  you  here,  Sir  Karl?" 
he  asked. 

« I  cannot  tell,"  I  answered,  "  whether  it  be  good  or 
evil  fortune  that  brings  me.  I  deem  it  right  to  tell 
you  that  I  am  here  with  my  young  pupil,  the  Count 
of  Hapsburg." 

Hymbercourt  whistled  his  astonishment. 

"  We  are  out  to  see  a  little  of  the  world,  and  I  need 
not  tell  you  how  important  it  is  that  we  remain  un 
known  while  in  Burgundy.  I  bear  my  own  name ; 
the  young  count  has  assumed  the  name  of  his 
mother's  family  and  wishes  to  be  known  as  Sir 
Maximilian  du  Guelph." 

"  I  shall  not  mention  your  presence  even  to  my 
wife,"  he  replied.  «I  advise  you  hot  to  remain  in 
Burgundy.  The  duke  takes  it  for  granted  that 
Styria  will  aid  the  Swiss,  or  at  least  will  sympa 
thize  with  them  in  this  brewing  war,  and  I  should 
fear  for  your  safety  were  he  to  discover  you." 

"I  understand  the  duke  recently  arrived  in  Pe- 
ronne  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Hymbercourt,  "  we  all  came  yes 
terday  morning." 

"  How  is  the  fair  princess  ?  Did  she  come  with 
you?"  I  asked,  fearing  to  hear  his  reply. 

"  She  is  well,  and  more  beautiful  than  ever  before," 
he  answered.  « She  did  not  come  with  us  from 
Ghent ;  she  has  been  here  at  the  castle  with  her 


A  RACE   WITH  THE   DUKE  137 

stepmother,  the  Duchess  Margaret.  They  have  lived 
here  during  the  last  two  or  three  years.  The  prin 
cess  met  her  father  just  inside  the  Postern,  lovely 
and  fresh  as  a  dew-dipped  rose." 

« She  met  her  father  just  inside  the  Postern  ? " 
I  asked,  slowly  dropping  my  words  in  astonishment. 
"  She  was  in  the  castle  yard  when  her  father  entered, 
—  and  at  the  Postern  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  took  his  hand  and  sprang  to  a  seat 
behind  him,"  answered  Hymbercourt. 

"  She  met  him  inside  the  Postern,  say  you  ? "  I 
repeated  musingly. 

"  What  is  there  amazing  about  so  small  an  act  ?  " 
asked  Hymbercourt.  "  Is  it  not  natural  that  she 
should  greet  her  father  whom  she  has  not  seen  for 
a  year  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  I  replied  stumblingly,  « but  the 
weather  is  very  hot,  and  —  and  I  was  thinking  how 
much  I  sjiould  have  enjoyed  witnessing  the  meeting. 
She  doubtless  was  dressed  in  gala  attire  for  so  rare 
an  occasion  ? "  I  asked,  wishing  to  talk  upon  the 
subject  that  touched  me  so  nearly.  Yolanda  was 
in  short  skirts,  stained  and  travel-worn,  when  she  left 
us. 

"  Indeed  she  was,"  answered  Hymbercourt.  « I 
can  easily  describe  her  dress.  She  loves  woman's 
finery,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  too  love  it.  She 
wore  a  hawking  costume ;  a  cap  of  crimson  —  I 


138  YOLANDA 

think  it  was  velvet  —  with  little  knots  on  it  and 
gems  scattered  here  and  there.  A  heron's  plume 
clasped  with  a  diamond  brooch  adorned  the  cap. 
Her  hair  hung  over  her  shoulders.  It  is  very  dark 
and  falls  in  a  great  bush  of  fluffy  curls.  When  her 
headgear  is  off,  her  hair  looks  like  a  black  corona. 
She  is  wonderfully  beautiful,  wonderfully  beautiful. 
Her  gown  was  of  red  stuff.  Perhaps  it  was  of  velvet 
like  the  cap.  It  was  hitched  up  with  a  cord  and 
girdle,  with  tassels  of  gold  lace  and  —  and  —  Sir 
Karl,  you  are  not  listening." 

"  I  am  listening,"  I  replied.  "  I  am  greatly  inter 
ested.  Her  gown  —  she  wore  a  gown  —  she  wore  a 
gown  —  " 

"Yes,  of  course  she  wore  a  gown,"  laughingly 
retorted  Hymbercourt.  "  Your  lagging  attention  is 
what  I  deserve,  Sir  Karl,  for  trying  in  my  lame 
fashion  to  describe  a  woman's  gear  to  a  man  who  is 
half  priest,  half  warrior.  I  do  not  wonder  that  you 
did  not  follow  me." 

I  had  heard  him,  but  there  was  another  question 
dinning  in  my  ears  so  loudly  that  it  drowned  all 
other  sounds  —  "  Who  is  Yolanda  ?  " 

Yolanda  was  entering  the  door  of  the  House 
under  the  Wall  less  than  five  minutes  before  I  saw 
the  duke  pass  through  the  Postern.  Marcus  Grote 
had  told  me  there  were  but  two  openings  to  the 
castle,  the  Postern  and  the  great  gate  on  the  other 


A  RACE   WITH   THE   DUKE  139 

side  of  the  castle  by  the  donjon  keep.  To  reach  the 
great  gate  one  must  pass  out  by  Cambrai  or  the 
Somme  Gate  and  go  around  the  city  walls  —  an 
hour's  journey. 

With  an  air  of  carelessness  I  asked  Hymbercourt 
concerning  the  various  entrances  to  the  castle.  He 
confirmed  what  Grote  had  said.  Considering  all  the 
facts,  I  was  forced  to  this  conclusion :  If  the  Princess 
Mary  had  met  the  duke  at  the  Postern,  Yolanda 
was  riot  the  Princess  Mary. 

The  next  day  I  reconnoitred  the  premises,  and 
again  reached  the  conclusion  that  Yolanda  could  not 
have  met  the  duke  inside  the  Postern  unless  she 
were  a  witch  with  wings  that  could  fly  thither  over 
the  castle  walls ;  ergo,  she  was  not  the  princess. 
With  equal  certainty  she  was  not  a  burgher  girl. 

In  seeking  an  identity  that  would  fit  her  I  groped 
among  many  absurd  propositions.  Yolanda  might 
be  the  duke's  ward,  or  she  might  be  his  daughter, 
though  not  bearing  his  name.  My  brain  was  in  a 
whirl.  If  she  were  the  princess,  I  wished  to  remain 
in  Peronne  to  pursue  the  small  advantage  Max  had 
assuredly  gained  in  winning  her  favor.  The  French 
marriage  might  miscarry.  But  if  she  were  not  the 
princess,  I  could  not  get  my  Prince  Max  away  from 
her  dangerous  neighborhood  too  quickly.  I  could 
not,  of  course,  say  to  Max,  "You  shall  remain  in 
Peronne,"  or  « You  shall  leave  Peronne  at  once ; " 


140  YOLANDA 

but  my  influence  over  him  was  great,  and  he  trusted 
my  fidelity,  my  love,  and  my  ability  to  advise  him 
rightly.  I  had  always  given  my  advice  carefully, 
but,  above  all,  I  had  given  him  the  only  pleasurable 
moments  he  had  ever  known.  That,  by  the  way, 
may  have  been  the  greatest  good  I  could  have  offered 
him. 

When  Max  was  a  child,  the  pleasure  of  his  amuse 
ments  was  smothered  by  officialism.  My  old  Lord 
Aurbach,  though  gouty  and  stiff  of  joint,  was  eager 
to  "  run "  his  balls  or  his  arrows,  and  old  Sir  Giles 
Butch  could  be  caught  so  easily  at  tag  or  blind  man's 
buff  that  there  was  no  sport  for  Max  in  doing  it. 
Everything  the  boy  did  was  done  by  the  heir  of 
Styria,  except  on  rare  occasions  when  he  and  I  stole 
away  from  the  castle.  Then  we  were  boys  together, 
and  then  it  was  I  earned  his  love  and  confidence.  At 
such  times  we  used  to  leave  the  Hapsburg  ancestry  to 
care  for  itself  and  dumped  Hapsburg  dignity  into  the 
moat.  But  the  crowning  good  I  had  brought  to  him 
was  this  journey  into  the  world.  The  boy  loathed 
the  clinging  dignities  that  made  of  him,  at  home,  a 
royal  automaton,  tricked  out  in  tarnished  gold  lace, 
faded  velvets,  and  pompous  airs.  He  often  spoke  of 
the  pleasures  I  had  given  him.  One  evening  at  Grote's 
inn  I  answered  :  — 

"Nonsense,  Max,  nonsense,"  though  I  was  so 
pleased  with  his  gratitude  I  could  have  wept. 


A   RACE  WITH  THE  DUKE  141 

"  It  is  not  nonsense.  You  have  saved  me  from  be 
coming  a  mummy.  I  see  it  all,  Karl,  and  shudder  to 
think  of  the"  life  that  might  have  been  mine.  I  take 
no  pleasure  in  seeing  gouty  old  dependents  bowing, 
kneeling,  and  smirking  before  me.  Of  course,  these 
things  are  my  prerogative,  and  a  man  born  to  them 
may  not  forego  what  is  due  to  his  birth  even  though 
it  irks  him.  But  such  an  existence  —  I  will  not  call 
it  living  —  saps  the  juice  of  life.  Even  dear  old 
mother  is  compelled  to  suppress  her  love  for  me. 
Often  she  has  pressed  me  to  her  breast  only  to 
thrust  me  away  at  the  approach  of  footsteps.  By 
the  way,  Karl,"  continued  Max,  while  preparing  for 
bed,  "  Yolanda  one  day  at  Basel  jestingly  called  me 
<  Little  Max.' " 

"  The  devil  she  did,"  I  exclaimed,  unable  to  restrain 
my  words. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Max,  "  and  when  in  surprise  I 
told  her  that  it  was  my  mother's  love-name  for  me, 
she  laughed  saucily,  <  Yes,  I  know  it  is.' " 

"  The  dev  —  Max,  you  can't  mean  what  you  say  ?  " 
I  cried,  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight  over  the  news  he  was 
telling  me. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  he  returned.  "  I  told  her  I  loved 
the  name  as  a  sweet  reminder  of  my  mother." 

«  What  did  she  say  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  seemed  pleased  and  flashed  her  eyes  on  me 
—  you  know  the  way  she  has  —  and  said  :  <  I,  too,  like 


142  YOLANDA 

the  name.  It  fits  you  so  well  —  by  contraries.' 
Where  could  she  have  learned  it,  and  how  could  she 
have  known  it  was  my  mother's  love-name  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  I  answered. 

So !  here  was  a  small  fact  suddenly  grown  big, 
since,  despite  all  evidence  to  the  contrary,  it  brought 
me  back  to  my  old  belief  that  this  fair,  laughing 
Yolanda  was  none  other  than  the  great  Princess  of 
Burgundy.  I  was  sure  that  she  had  gained  all  her 
information  concerning  Max  from  my  letters  to  Hym- 
bercourt. 

It  racks  a  man's  brain  to  play  shuttle-cock  with 
it  in  that  fashion.  While  I  lay  in  bed  trying  to 
sleep,  I  thought  of  the  meeting  between  the  duke 
and  the  princess  at  the  Postern,  and  back  again  flew 
my  mind  to  the  conviction  that  Yolanda  was  not, 
and  could  not  possibly  be,  the  Princess  Mary.  For 
days  I  had  been  able  to  think  on  no  other  subject. 
One  moment  she  was  Yolanda ;  the  next  she  was  the 
princess ;  and  the  next  I  did  not  know  who  she  was. 
Surely  the  riddle  would  drive  me  mad.  The  fate  of 
nations  —  but,  infinitely  more  important  to  me,  the 
fate  of  Max  —  depended  upon  its  solution. 

Castleman  had  told  us  to  remain  at  the  inn  until 
his  return,  and  had  exacted  from  Max,  as  you  will 
remember,  a  promise  not  to  visit  the  House  under 
the  Wall,  which  we  had  learned  was  the  home  of 
our  burgher  friend.  We  therefore  spent  our  days 


A  KACE  WITH  THE  DUKE  143 

and  evenings  in  Grote's  garden  near  the  banks  of  the 
river  Cologne. 

One  afternoon,  while  we  were  sitting  at  a  table 
sipping  wine  under  the  shade  of  a  tree  near  the  river 
bank,  Max  said  :  — 

"  I  have  enjoyed  every  day  of  our  journey,  Karl. 
I  have  learned  the  great  lesson  of  life,  and  am  now 
ready  to  go  back  to  Styria  and  take  up  my  burden. 
We  must  see  our  friends  and  say  farewell  to  them. 
Then  —  " 

"You  forget  the  object  of  our  journey  to  Bur 
gundy,"  I  answered. 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it,"  he  replied.  "  I  had 
abandoned  it  even  before  I  heard  of  the  impending 
French  marriage." 

"Not  with  my  consent,  Max,"  I  answered  almost 
fiercely.  "  The  princess  is  not  yet  married,  and  no 
one  can  foresee  the  outcome  of  these  present  compli 
cations  into  which  the  duke  is  plunging.  We  could 
not  have  reached  Burgundy  at  a  more  auspicious 
time.  God's  hand  seems  to  have  been  in  our  ven 
ture.  If  evil  befall  the  duke,  there  will  be  an  open 
gate  for  you,  Max,  —  a  gate  opened  by  fate." 

I  could  not,  by  my  utmost  effort,  force  myself  en 
tirely  away  from  the  belief  that  Yolanda  was  the 
princess,  and  I  was  near  to  telling  Max  of  my  sus 
picions  ;  but  doubt  came  before  my  words,  and  I 
remained  silent.  Before  many  days  I  was  glad 
of  my  caution. 


144  YOLANDA 

"  I  knew,"  said  Max,  "  that  I  would  pain  you, 
Karl,  by  this  determination  to  return  to  Styria  with 
out  so  much  as  an  effort  to  do  —  to  do  what  we  — 
what  you  wished ;  but  it  must  be  as  I  say.  I  must 
leave  Burgundy  and  go  back  to  my  strait-jacket. 
I  have  lived  my  life,  Karl,  I  have  had  my  portion 
of  sweet  joy  and  sweeter  pain.  The  pain  will  give 
me  joy  as  long  as  I  live.  Now  for  my  duty  to  my 
father,  my  house,  and  my  ancestors." 

"  But  your  duty  to  all  these  lies  here  in  Peronne," 
I  answered,  almost  stifled  by  the  stupendous  import 
of  the  moment. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  sighed  Max,  speaking 
gently,  though  with  decision.  "  But  that  duty  I'll 
shirk,  and  try  to  make  amends  in  other  ways. 
I  shall  never  marry.  That,  Karl,  you  may  depend 
upon.  Styria  may  go  at  my  death  to  Albert  of 
Austria,  or  to  his  issue." 

"  No,  no  !  Max,"  I  cried.  He  ignored  my  inter 
ruption. 

"Along  with  the  countless  duties  that  fall  to  the 
lot  of  a  prince  are  a  few  that  one  owes  to  him 
self  as  a  man.  There  are  some  sacrifices  a  man 
has  no  right  to  inflict  upon  himself,  even  for  the  sake 
of  his  family,  his  ancestors,  or  his  state."  He  paused 
for  the  space  of  a  minute,  and,  dropping  his  words 
slowly,  continued  in  a  low  voice  vibrant  with  emo 
tion  :  "  There  is  but  one  woman,  Karl,  whom  I  may 


145 

marry  with  God's  pleasure.  Her,  I  may  not  even 
think  upon ;  she  is  as  far  from  me  as  if  she  were 
dead.  I  must  sacrifice  her  for  the  sake  of  the  obli 
gations  and  conditions  into  which  I  was  born ;  but 
—  "  here  he  hesitated,  rose  slowly  to  his  feet,  and 
lifted  his  hands  above  his  head,  "  but  I  swear  before 
the  good  God,  who,  in  His  wisdom,  inflicted  the  curse 
of  my  birth  upon  me,  that  I  will  marry  no  other 
woman  than  this,  let  the  result  be  what  it  may." 

He  sank  back  into  the  chair  and  fell  forward  on 
the  table,  burying  his  face  in  his  arms.  His  heart  for 
the  moment  was  stronger  than  his  resolution. 

"  That  question  is  settled,"  thought  I.  No  power 
save  that  of  the  Pope  could  absolve  the  boy  from  his 
oath,  and  I  knew  that  the  power  of  ten  score  of  popes 
could  not  move  him  from  its  complete  fulfilment. 
The  oath  of  Maximilian  of  Hapsburg,  whose  heart 
had  never  coined  a  lie,  was  as  everlasting  as  the  rocks 
of  his  native  land  and,  like  Styria's  mountain  peaks, 
pierced  the  dome  of  heaven. 

If  Yolanda  were  not  the  princess,  our  journeying 
to  Burgundy  had  been  in  vain,  and  our  sojourn  in 
Peronne  was  useless  and  perilous.  It  could  not  be 
brought  to  a  close  too  quickly.  But  (the  question 
mark  seems  at  times  to  be  the  greatest  part  of  life) 
if  Yolanda  were  Mary  of  Burgundy,  Max  had,  beyond 
doubt,  already  won  the  lady's  favor,  unless  she  were 
a  wanton  snare  for  every  man's  feet.  That  hypothe- 


146  YOLANDA 

sis  I  did  not  entertain  for  a  moment.  I  knew  little 
of  womankind,  but  my  limited  knowledge  told 
me  that  Yolanda  was  true.  Her  heart  was  full  of 
laughter,  —  a  rare,  rich  heritage,  —  and  she  was 
little  inclined  to  look  on  the  serious  side  of  life 
if  she  could  avoid  it ;  but  beneath  all  there  was  a  real 
Yolanda,  with  a  great,  tender  heart  and  a  shrewd, 
helpful  brain.  She  was  somewhat  of  a  coquette,  but 
coquetry  salts  a  woman  and  gives  her  relish.  It  had 
been  a  grievous  waste  on  the  part  of  Providence  to 
give  to  any  girl  such  eyes  as  Yolanda's  and  to  with 
hold  from  her  a  modicum  of  coquetry  with  which  to 
use  them.  Taken  all  in  all,  Yolanda,  whoever  she 
was,  would  grace  any  station  in  life.  But  if  she 
were  not  the  princess,  I  would  be  willing  to  give  my 
life  —  nay,  more,  I  would  almost  be  willing  to  take 
hers  —  rather  than  see  her  marry  Maximilian  of  Haps- 
burg.  Happiness  could  not  come  from  such  a  union. 
Should  Max  marry  a  burgher  girl,  his  father  and 
mother  would  never  look  upon  his  face  again.  It 
would  alienate  his  subjects,  humble  his  house,  and 
bring  him  to  the  level  of  the  meanest  noble  on  the 
Danube.  To  all  these  dire  consequences  Max  was 
quite  as  wide  awake  as  I.  He  had  no  intention  of 
bringing  them  upon  his  house,  though  for  himself  he 
would  have  welcomed  them.  So  I  felt  little  uneasi 
ness  ;  but  when  a  great  love  lays  hold  upon  a  great 
heart,  no  man  may  know  the  outcome. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

ON   THE   MOAT    BRIDGE 

AWAITING  Castleman's  return,  we  remained 
housed  up  at  The  Mitre,  seldom  going  farther 
abroad  than  Grote's  garden  save  in  the  early  morning 
or  after  dark.  But  despite  our  caution  trouble  befell 
us,  as  our  burgher  friend  had  predicted. 

Within  a  week  Max  began  to  go  out  after  dark 
without  asking  me  to  accompany  him.  When  he 
came  into  our  room  late  one  evening,  I  asked  care 
lessly  where  he  had  been.  I  knew  where  he  had 
been  going,  and  had  burned  to  speak,  but  the  boy  was 
twenty-two.  Within  the  last  few  months  he  had 
grown  out  of  my  tutelage,  and  his  native  strength 
of  character  had  taught  me  to  respect  him  and  in 
a  certain  way  to  fear  him.  From  the  promptness  of 
his  reply  I  thought  that  he  had  wished  me  to  ask  con 
cerning  his  outgoing  and  incoming. 

"I  have  been  to  the  bridge  over  the  moat,  near 
Castleman's  House  under  the  Wall,"  he  answered. 

"  What  did  you  there  ?  "  I  asked,  seeing  his  willing 
ness  to  be  questioned. 

"  I  stood  there  —  I  —  I  —  "     He  paused,  laughed, 

147 


148  YOLANDA 

and  stammered  on.  "  I  looked  at  the  castle  and  at 
the  moat,  like  a  silly  fool,  and  —  and  —  " 

" Castleinan's  house?"  I  suggested,  helping  him 
out. 

"  Y-e-s,"  he  answered  hesitatingly,  "  I  could  not 
help  seeing  it.  It  is  close  by  the  bridge  —  not  twenty 
paces  distant." 

"  Did  you  see  any  one  else  —  except  the  house  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  No,"  he  returned  promptly.  "  I  did  not  want  to 
see  any  one  else.  If  I  had  I  should  have  entered  the 
house." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  go  to  the  bridge  ?  "  I  queried. 

"  I  cannot  answer  that  question  even  to  myself,"  he 
replied.  "I  —  I  —  there  is  a  constant  hungering  for 
her,  Karl,  that  I  cannot  overcome  ;  it  seems  as  if  I  am 
compelled  to  go  to  the  bridge,  though  I  know  I  should 
not.  It  is  very  foolish  in  me,  I  am  sure,  but  —  " 

"  I  heartily  agree  with  you,"  I  answered.  "  It  is 
not  only  foolish,  it  is  rash  ;  and  it  may  bring  you  great 
trouble." 

I  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  tell  him  that  he  was 
following  in  the  footsteps  of  his  race.  I  left  him  to 
suppose  that  he  was  the  only  fool  of  the  sort  that  had 
ever  lived.  The  thought  would  abate  his  vanity. 

"  But  I  must  go  to  the  bridge,"  he  continued, 
finishing  the  sentence  I  had  interrupted,  "and  I  do 
not  see  how  there  can  be  evil  in  it." 


ON  THE  MOAT  BRIDGE  149 

"  No,  Max,  it  is  not  wrong  in  itself,"  I  said  reprov 
ingly  ;  "  but  Castleman,  evidently  for  good  reasons, 
asked  you  to  stay  away  from  his  house,  and  counselled 
us  to  remain  close  at  the  inn.  It  has  also  this  evil  in 
it  for  you,  aside  from  the  danger :  it  will  make  your 
duty  harder  to  perform.  When  a  man  longs  for 
what  he  may  not  have,  he  should  not  think  upon  it, 
much  less  act  on  it.  Our  desires,  like  covetousness 
and  jealousy,  feed  upon  themselves.  We  may,  if  we 
but  knew  it,  augment  or  abate  them  at  will." 

"I  shall  always  think  on — on  my  love  for  Yolanda," 
he  replied.  "  I  would  not  abate  it  one  jot ;  I  would 
augment  it  in  my  heart.  But,  Karl  —  you  see,  Karl, 
it  is  not  a  question  of  my  own  strength  to  resist.  I 
need  no  strength.  There  is  no  more  reason  for  you 
to  warn  me  against  this  danger  than  to  admonish  a 
child  not  to  long  for  a  star,  fearing  he  might  get  it. 
The  longing  may  be  indulged  with  impunity ;  the 
star  and  the  danger  are  out  of  reach." 

I  had  nothing  to  say  ;  Max  was  stronger  and  nobler 
than  ever  I  had  believed. 

Max  continued  to  go  to  the  bridge,  and  I  made 
no  effort  to  prevent  him.  Meddling  mars  more  fre 
quently  than  it  mends,  and  when  the  Fates  are  lead 
ing,  a  man  is  a  fool  to  try  to  direct  their  course. 
Whatever  was  to  be  would  be.  Fate  held  Max  by 
the  hand  and  was  leading  him.  I  almost  feared  to 
move  or  to  speak  in  his  affairs,  lest  I  should  make  a 


150  YOLANDA 

mistake  and  offend  these  capricious  Fates.  The  right 
or  the  wrong  of  his  visits  to  the  moat  depended 
entirely  upon  the  answer  to  my  riddle,  "  Who  is 
Yolanda  ?  "  and  I  dared  not  put  it  to  the  touch. 

On  one  occasion  he  returned  from  the  bridge,  and, 
without  lighting  the  lamp,  sat  on  the  arm  of  my  chair. 
The  moonlight  streaming  through  the  window  illu 
mined  his  head  as  with  a  halo.  He  tossed  the  damp 
curls  from  his  face,  and  his  eyes  were  aglow  with  joy. 
There  was  no  need  to  tell  me  what  had  happened,  but 
he  told  me. 

"Ah,  Karl,  I've  seen  the  star,"  he  cried  trium 
phantly.  He  was  but  a  boy-man,  you  must  remember. 

"I  was  sure  you  would  see  her,"  I  answered. 
"  How  did  you  bring  the  meeting  about  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  bring  it  about,"  he  answered,  laughing 
softly.  "  The  star  came  to  the  child." 

"All  things  come  to  him  that  waits  at  the  bridge," 
I  replied  sarcastically.  He  paid  no  heed  to  the  sar 
casm,  but  continued :  — 

"  She  happened  to  be  near  the  bridge  when  I  got 
there,  and  she  came  to  me,  Karl,  —  she  came  to  me 
like  a  real  star  falling  out  of  the  darkness." 

That  little  fact  solved  once  more  my  great 
riddle  —  at  least,  it  solved  it  for  a  time.  Yolanda 
was  not  Mary  of  Burgundy.  I  had  little  knowledge 
of  princesses  and  their  ways,  but  I  felt  sure  they 
were  not  in  the  habit  of  lurking  in  dark  places 


ON  THE   MOAT   BRIDGE  151 

or  wandering  by  sluggish  moats  in  the  black  shadow 
of  a  grim  castle.  A  princess  would  not  and  could 
not  have  been  loitering  by  the  bridge  near  the  House 
under  the  Wall.  Castleman's  words  concerning 
Yolanda's  residence  under  his  roof  came  back  and 
convinced  me  that  my  absurd  theory  concerning  her 
identity  was  the  dream  of  a  madman. 

"  She  happened  to  be  near  the  bridge  ?  "  I  asked, 
with  significant  emphasis. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  not  have  used  the  word  <  hap 
pened,'  "  returned  Max. 

"  I  thought  as  much.  What  did  she  have  to  say 
for  herself,  Max  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  not  sure  of  your  devotion,  Karl,  I 
should  not  answer  a  question  concerning  Yolanda  put 
in  such  a  manner,"  he  replied ;  "  but  I'll  tell  you. 
When  I  stepped  on  the  bridge,  she  came  running  to 
me  from  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  Her  arms  were 
uplifted,  and  she  moved  so  swiftly  and  with  such 
grace  one  could  almost  think  she  was  flying  —  " 

"  Witches  fly,"  I  interrupted.  My  remark  checked 
his  flow  of  enthusiasm.  After  a  long  silence  I  queried, 
«  Well  ?  » 

Max  began  again. 

"She  gave  me  her  hand  and  said:  'I  knew  you 
would  come  again,  Sir  Max.  I  saw  you  from  the 
battlements  last  night  and  the  night  before  and  the 
night  before  that.  I  could  not,  with  certainty,  recog- 


152  YOLANDA 

nize  you  from  so  great  a  distance,  but  I  was  sure  you 
would  come  to  the  bridge  —  I  do  not  know  why,  but 
I  was  sure  you  would  come ;  so  to-night  I  too  came. 
You  cannot  know  the  trouble  I  took  or  the  risk  I 
ran  in  coming.  You  have  not  seen  me  for  many  days, 
yet  you  remember  me  and  have  come  five  times  to 
the  bridge.  I  was  wrong  when  I  said  you  would  for 
get  the  burgher  girl  within  a  fortnight.  Sir  Max, 
you  are  a  marvel  of  constancy.'  At  that  moment 
the  figures  of  two  men  appeared  on  the  castle  battle 
ments,  silhouetted  against  the  moon ;  they  seemed  of 
enormous  stature,  magnified  in  the  moonlight.  One 
of  them  was  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  I  recognized  him 
by  his  great  beard,  of  which  I  have  heard  you  speak. 
Yolanda  caught  one  glimpse  of  the  men  and  ran  back 
to  the  house  without  so  much  as  giving  me  a  word  of 
farewell." 

"  What  did  you  say  during  the  brief  interview  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Not  one  word,"  he  replied. 

"  By  my  soul,  you  are  an  ardent  lover,"  I  ex 
claimed. 

"  I  think  she  understood  me,"  Max  replied,  confi 
dently;  and  doubtless  he  was  right. 

Once  more  the  riddle  was  solved.  A  few  more 
solutions  and  there  would  be  a  mad  Styrian  in  Bur 
gundy.  My  reflections  were  after  this  fashion :  Prin 
cesses,  after  all,  do  wander  by  the  moat  side  and 


ON   THE  MOAT  BRIDGE  153 

loiter  by  the  bridge.  Princesses  do  go  on  long  journeys 
with  no  lady-in-waiting  to  do  their  bidding  and  no 
servants  ready  at  their  call.  Yolanda  was  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  thought  I,  and  Max  had  been  throwing 
away  God-given  opportunities.  Had  she  not  seen 
Max  from  the  battlements,  and  had  she  not  fled  at 
sight  of  the  duke  ?  These  two  small  facts  were  but 
scant  evidence  of  Yolanda's  royalty,  but  they  seemed 
sufficient. 

"  What  would  you  have  me  say,  Karl  ?  "  asked  Max. 
"You  would  not  have  me  speak  more  than  I  have 
already  said  and  win  her  love  beyond  her  power  to 
withdraw  it.  That  I  sometimes  believe  I  might  do, 
but  if  my  regard  for  her  is  true,  I  should  not  wish  to 
bring  unhappiness  to  her  for  the  sake  of  satisfying 
my  selfish  vanity.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  a  woman 
would  suffer  more  than  a  man  from  such  a  misfor 
tune." 

Here,  truly,  was  a  generous  love.  It  asked  only 
the  privilege  of  giving,  and  would  take  nothing  in 
return  because  it  could  not  give  all.  If  Yolanda 
were  Mary  of  Burgundy,  Max  might  one  day  have  a 
reward  worthy  of  his  virtue.  Yolanda's  sweetness 
and  beauty  and  Mary's  rich  domain  would  surely  be 
commensurate  with  the  noblest  virtue.  I  was  not 
willing  that  Max  should  cease  wooing  Yolanda  —  if  I 
might  give  that  word  to  his  conduct  —  until  I  should 
know  certainly  that  she  was  not  the  princess.  This, 


164  YOLANDA 

I  admit,  was  cruel  indifference  to  Yolanda's  peace  of 
mind  or  pain  of  heart,  if  Max  should  win  her  love 
and  desert  her. 

Because  of  a  faint  though  dazzling  ray  of  hope, 
I  encouraged  Max  after  this  to  visit  the  bridge  over 
the  moat,  dangerous  though  it  was;  and  each  night 
I  received  an  account  of  his  doings.  Usually  the 
account  was  brief  and  pointless.  He  went,  he  stood 
upon  the  bridge,  he  saw  the  House  under  the  Wall, 
he  returned  to  the  inn.  But  a  night  came  when  he 
had  stirring  adventures  to  relate. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing  every  court  in 
Europe  had  its  cluster  of  genteel  vagabonds,  —  for 
eigners, — who  stood  in  high  favor.  These  hangers-on, 
though  perhaps  of  the  noblest  blood  in  their  own  lands, 
were  usually  exiles  from  their  native  country.  Some 
had  been  banished  for  crimes ;  others  had  wandered 
from  their  homes,  prompted  by  the  love  of  roaming 
so  often  linked  with  unstable  principles  and  reck 
less  dispositions.  Burgundy  under  Charles  the  Rash 
was  a  paradise  for  these  gentry.  The  duke,  who  was 
so  parsimonious  with  the  great  and  wise  Philip  de 
Comines  that  he  drove  him  to  the  court  of  Louis  XI, 
was  open-handed  with  these  floating  villains. 

In  imitation  of  King  Louis's  Scotch  guard,  Charles 
had  an  Italian  guard.  The  wide  difference  in  the 
wisdom  of  these  princes  is  nowhere  more  distinctly 
shown  than  in  the  quality  of  the  men  they  chose  to 


ON  THE  MOAT   BRIDGE  155 

guard  them.  Louis  employed  the  simple,  honest, 
brave  Scot.  Charles  chose  the  most  guileful  of  men. 
They  were  true  only  to  self-interest,  brave  only  in  the 
absence  of  danger.  The  court  of  Burgundy  swarmed 
with  these  Italian  mercenaries,  many  of  whom  had 
followed  Charles  to  Peronne.  Count  Campo-Basso, 
who  afterward  betrayed  Charles,  was  their  chief. 
Among  his  followers  was  a  huge  Lombard,  a  great 
bully,  who  bore  the  name  of  Count  Calli. 

On  the  evening  of  which  I  speak  Max  had  hardly 
stepped  on  the  bridge  when  Yolanda  ran  to  him. 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you,  Sir  Max,"  she  said. 
"  You  are  late.  I  feared  you  would  not  come.  I 
have  waited  surely  an  hour,  though  I  am  loath  to 
confess  it  lest  you  think  me  a  too  willing  maiden." 

"  It  would  be  hard,  Fraulein,  for  me  to  think  you 
too  willing  —  you  are  but  gracious  and  kind,  and  I 
thank  you,"  answered  Max.  "  But  you  have  not 
waited  an  hour.  Darkness  has  fallen  barely  a  quarter 
of  that  time." 

"  I  was  watching  long  before  dark  on  the  battle 
ments,  and  —  " 

"  On  the  battlements,  Fraulein  ?  "  asked  Max,  in 
surprise. 

"  I  mean  from  —  from  the  window  battlements  in 
uncle's  house.  I've  been  out  here  under  the  trees 
since  nightfall,  and  that  seems  to  have  been  at  least 
an  hour  ago.  Don't  you  understand,  Sir  Max  ?  "  she 


156  YOLANDA 

continued,  laughing  softly  and  speaking  as  if  in  jest ; 
"  the  longer  I  know  you  the  more  shamefully  eager  I 
become ;  but  that  is  the  way  with  a  maid  and  a  man. 
She  grows  more  eager  and  he  grows  less  ardent,  and 
I  doubt  not  the  time  will  soon  arrive,  Sir  Max,  when 
you  will  not  come  at  all,  and  I  shall  be  left  waiting 
under  the  trees  to  weep  in  loneliness." 

Max  longed  to  speak  the  words  that  were  in  his 
heart  and  near  his  lips,  but  he  controlled  himself 
under  this  dire  temptation  and  remained  silent. 
After  a  long  pause  she  stepped  close  to  him  and 
asked  :  — 

"  Did  you  not  want  me  to  come  ?  " 

Max  dared  not  tell  her  how  much  he  had  wanted 
her  to  come,  so  he  went  to  the  other  extreme  —  he 
must  say  something  —  and,  in  an  excess  of  caution, 
said :  — 

"  I  would  not  have  asked  you  to  come,  Fraulein, 
though  I  much  desired  it ;  but  sober  judgment  would 
prompt  me  to  wish  that  —  that  is,  I  —  ah,  Fraulein, 
I  did  not  want  you  to  come  to  the  bridge." 

She  laughed  softly  and  said  :  — 

"  Now,  Little  Max,  you  do  not  speak  the  truth. 
You  did  want  me  to  come,  else  why  do  you  come  to 
the  bridge  ?  Why  do  you  come  ?  " 

In  view  of  all  the  facts  in  the  case  the  question 
was  practically  unanswerable  unless  Max  wished  to 
tell  the  truth,  so  he  evaded  by  saying  :  — 


ON  THE   MOAT  BKIDGE  157 

"  I  do  not  know." 

She  looked  quickly  up  to  his  face  and  stepped 
back  from  him  :  — 

"  Did  you  come  to  see  Twonette  ?  I  had  not 
thought  of  her.  She  is  but  drained  milk  and 
treacle.  Do  you  want  to  see  her,  Sir  Max  ?  If  so, 
I'll  return  to  the  house  and  send  her  to  you." 

"  Fraulein,  I  need  not  answer  your  question," 
returned  Max,  convincingly. 

"  But  I  love  Twonette.  I  know  you  do  not  come 
to  see  her,  and  I  should  not  have  spoken  as  I  did," 
said  Yolanda,  penitently. 

Perhaps  her  penitential  moods  were  the  most 
bewitching  —  certainly  they  were  the  most  dangerous 
—  of  all  her  many  phases. 

"  You  know  why  I  come  to  the  bridge,  even 
though  I  do  not,"  said  Max.  "  Tell  me,  Fraulein, 
why  I  come." 

"  That  is  what  you  may  tell  me.  I  came  to  hear 
it,"  she  answered  softly,  hanging  her  head. 

"I  may  not  speak,  Fraulein,"  he  replied,  with  a 
deep,  regretful  sigh.  "  What  I  said  to  you  on  the 
road  from  Basel  will  be  true  as  long  as  I  live,  but 
we  agreed  that  it  should  not  again  be  spoken  be 
tween  us.  For  your  sake  more  than  for  mine  it  is 
better  that  I  remain  silent." 

Yolanda  hung  her  head,  while  her  fingers  were 
nervously  busy  with  the  points  of  her  bodice.  She 


158  YOLANDA 

uttered  a  low  laugh,  flashed  her  eyes  upon  him  for 
an  instant,  and  again  the  long  lashes  shaded  them. 

«  You  need  not  be  too  considerate  for  my  sake,  Sir 
Max,"  she  whispered  ;  "  though  —  though  I  confess 
that  I  never  supposed  any  man  could  bring  me  to 
this  condition  of  boldness." 

Max  caught  her  hands,  and,  clasping  them  be 
tween  his  own,  drew  the  girl  toward  him.  The  top 
of  her  head  was  below  his  chin,  and  the  delicious 
scent  from  her  hair  intoxicated  his  senses.  She 
felt  his  great  frame  tremble  with  emotion,  and  a 
thrill  of  exquisite  delight  sped  through  every  fibre 
of  her  body,  warming  every  drop  of  blood  in  her 
veins.  But  Max,  by  a  mighty  eifort,  checked  him 
self,  and  remained  true  to  his  self-imposed  renunci 
ation  in  word  and  act.  After  a  little  time  she  drew 
her  hands  from  his,  saying  :  — 

"  You  are  right,  Max,  to  wish  to  save  yourself  and 
me  from  pain." 

"  I  wish  to  save  you,  Yolanda.  I  want  the  pain ; 
I  hope  it  will  cling  to  me  all  my  life.  I  want  to 
save  you  from  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  beginning  too  late,  Max,"  said 
the  girl,  sighing,  "but — but  after  all  you  are  right. 
Even  as  you  see  our  situation  it  is  impossible  for  us 
to  be  more  than  we  are  to  each  other.  But  if  you 
knew  all  the  truth,  you  would  see  how  utterly  hope 
less  is  the  future  in  which  I  at  one  time  thought  I 


ON  THE  MOAT  BRIDGE  159 

saw  a  ray  of  hope.  Our  fate  is  sealed,  Max ;  we  are 
doomed.  Before  long  you  shall  know.  I  will  soon 
tell  you  all." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  tell  me  now,  Fraulein  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  she  whispered. 

"  In  your  own  good  time,  Yolanda.  I  would  not 
urge  you." 

Max  understood  Yolanda's  words  to  imply  that 
her  station  in  life  was  even  lower  than  it  seemed, 
or  that  there  was  some  taint  upon  herself  or  her 
family.  Wishing  to  assure  her  that  such  a  fact  could 
not  influence  him,  he  said  :  — 

"  You  need  not  fear  to  tell  me  all  concerning 
yourself  or  your  family.  There  can  be  no  stain 
upon  you,  and  even  though  your  station  be  less 
than  —  " 

"Hush,  Max,  hush,"  she  cried,  placing  her  hand 
protestingly  against  his  breast.  "  You  do  not  know 
what  you  are  saying.  There  is  no  stain  on  me  or 
my  family." 

Max  wondered,  but  was  silent ;  he  had  not  earned 
the  right  to  be  inquisitive. 

The  guard  appeared  at  that  moment  on  the  castle 
battlements,  and  Max  and  Yolanda  sought  the  shelter 
of  a  grove  of  trees  a  dozen  paces  from  the  bridge 
on  the  town  side  of  the  moat.  They  seated  them 
selves  on  a  bench,  well  within  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  and  after  a  moment's  silence  Max  said :  — 


160  YOLAKDA 

"  I  shall  not  come  to  the  bridge  again,  Fraulein. 
I'll  wait  till  your  uncle  returns,  when  I  shall  see 
you  at  his  house.  Then  I'll  say  farewell  and  go 
back  to  the  hard  rocks  of  my  native  land — and  to 
a  life  harder  than  the  rocks." 

"  You  are  right  in  your  resolve  not  to  come  again 
to  the  bridge,"  said  Yolanda,  "  for  so  long  as  you 
come,  I,  too,  shall  come  —  when  I  can.  That  will 
surely  bring  us  trouble  sooner  or  later.  But  when 
Uncle  Castleman  returns,  you  must  come  to  his 
house,  and  I  shall  see  you  there.  As  to  your 
leaving  Peronne,  we  will  talk  of  that  later.  It 
is  not  to  be  thought  of  now." 

She  spoke  with  the  confidence  of  one  who  felt 
that  she  might  command  him  to  stay  or  order 
him  to  go.  She  would  settle  that  little  point  for 
herself. 

"  I  will  go,  Fraulein,"  said  Max,  "  soon  after  your 
uncle's  return." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  best,  but  we  will  determine 
that  when  we  must  —  when  the  time  comes  that 
we  can  put  it  off  no  longer.  Now,  I  wish  you  to 
grant  me  three  promises,  Sir  Max.  First,  ask  me 
no  questions  concerning  myself.  Of  course,  you  will 
ask  them  of  no  one  else ;  I  need  not  demand  that 
promise  of  you." 

"  I  gladly  promise,"  he  answered.  "What  I  already 
know  of  you  is  all-sufficient." 


ON  THE  MOAT  BRIDGE  161 

"  Second,  do  not  fail  to  come  to  my  uncle's  house 
when  he  invites  you.  His  home  is  worthy  to  receive 
the  grandest  prince  in  the  world.  My  —  my  lord, 
Duke  Philip  the  Good,  was  Uncle  Castleman's  dear 
friend.  The  old  duke,  when  in  Peronne,  dined  once 
a  week  with  my  uncle.  Although  uncle  is  a  burgher, 
he  could  have  been  noble.  He  refused  a  lordship  and 
declined  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  preferring 
the  freedom  of  his  own  caste.  I  have  always  thought 
he  acted  wisely." 

"  Indeed  he  was  wise,"  returned  Max.  "  You  that 
have  never  known  the  restraints  of  one  born  to 
high  estate  cannot  fully  understand  how  wise  he 
was." 

Yolanda  glanced  up  to  Max  with  amusement  in  her 
eyes  :  — 

"  Ah,  yes !  For  example,  there  is  poor  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  who  is  to  marry  the  French  Dauphin.  I 
pity  her.  For  all  we  know,  she  may  be  longing  for 
another  man  as  I  — I  longed  for  my  mastiff,  Caesar, 
when  I  was  away.  By  the  way,  Sir  Max,  are  you 
still  wearing  the  ring  ? "  She  took  his  hand  and 
felt  for  the  ring  on  his  finger.  "  Ah,  you  have  left 
it  off,"  she  cried  reproachfully,  answering  her  own 
question. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Max.  "  There  have  been  so 
many  changes  within  the  last  few  weeks  that  I  have 
taken  it  off,  and  —  and  I  shall  cease  to  wear  it." 


162  YOLANDA 

"  Then  give  it  to  me,  Sir  Max,"  she  cried  excitedly. 

« I  may  not  do  that,  Fraulein,"  answered  Max. 
"It  was  given  to  me  by  one  I  respect." 

« I  know  who  the  lady  is,"  answered  Yolanda,  toss 
ing  her  head  saucily  and  speaking  with  a  dash  of 
irritation  in  her  voice. 

"Ah,  you  do?"  asked  Max.  "Tell  me  now,  my 
little  witch,  who  is  the  lady  ?  If  you  know  so  much 
tell  me." 

Yolanda  lifted  her  eyes  solemnly  toward  heaven, 
invoking  the  help  of  her  never  failing  familiar  spirit. 

« I  see  an  unhappy  lady,"  she  said,  speaking  in  a 
low  whisper,  "whose  father  is  one  of  the  richest 
and  greatest  princes  in  all  the  world.  A  few  even 
ings  ago  while  we  were  standing  on  the  moat  bridge 
talking,  I  saw  the  lady's  father  on  the  battlements  of 
yonder  terrible  castle.  His  form  seemed  magnified 
against  the  sky  till  it  was  of  unearthly  size  and 
terrible  to  look  on  —  doubly  terrible  to  those  who 
know  him.  If  she  should  disobey  her  father,  he 
would  kill  her  with  his  battle-axe,  I  verily  believe,  as 
readily  as  he  would  crush  a  rebellious  soldier.  Yet 
she  fears  him  not,  because  she  is  of  his  own  dauntless 
blood  and  fears  not  death  itself.  She  is  to  marry  the 
Dauphin  of  France,  and  her  wishes  are  of  so  small 
concern,  I  am  told  that  she  has  not  yet  been  notified. 
This  terrible  man  will  sell  his  daughter  as  he  would 
barter  a  horse.  She  is  powerless  to  move  in  her  own 


ON  THE  MOAT   BKIDGE  163 

behalf,  being  bound  hand  and  foot  by  the  remorseless 
shackles  of  her  birth.  She  will  become  an  unhappy 
queen,  and,  if  she  survives  her  cruel  father,  she  will, 
in  time,  take  to  her  husband  this  fat  land  of  Bur 
gundy,  for  the  sake  of  which  he  wishes  to  marry  her. 
She  is  Mary  of  Burgundy,  and  even  I,  poor  and  mean 
of  station,  pity  her.  She  —  gave  —  you  —  the —  ring." 

"  How  did  you  learn  all  this,  Fraulein  ?  You  are 
not  guessing,  as  you  would  have  had  me  believe, 
and  you  would  not  lie  to  me.  What  you  have  just 
said  is  a  part  with  what  you  said  at  Basel  and  at 
Strasburg.  How  did  you  learn  it,  Fraulein  ?  " 

"Twonette,"  answered  Yolanda. 

That  simple  explanation  was  sufficient  for  Max. 
Yolanda  might  very  likely  know  the  private  affairs 
of  the  Princess  Mary  through  Twonette,  who  was  a 
friend  of  Her  Highness. 

"  But  you  have  not  promised  to  visit  Uncle  Castle- 
man's  house  when  he  invites  you,"  said  Yolanda, 
drawing  Max  again  to  the  bench  beside  her. 

"  I  gladly  promise,"  said  Max. 

"  That  brings  me  to  the  third  promise  I  desire," 
said  Yolanda.  "  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  word 
that  you  will  not  leave  Burgundy  within  one  month 
from  this  day,  unless  I  give  you  permission." 

"  I  cannot  grant  you  that  promise,  Fraulein," 
answered  Max. 

"  Ah,  but   you  must,  you   shall,"    cried   Yolanda, 


164  YOLANDA 

desperately  clutching  his  huge  arms  with  her  small 
hands  and  clinging  to  him.  "  I  will  scream,  I  will 
waken  the  town.  I  will  not  leave  you,  and  you  shall 
not  shake  me  off  till  I  have  your  promise.  I  may  not 
give  you  my  reasons,  but  trust  me,  Max,  trust  me. 
Give  me  your  unquestioning  faith  for  once.  I  am 
not  a  fool,  Max,  nor  would  I  lie  to  you  for  all  the 
world,  in  telling  you  that  it  is  best  for  you  to  give 
me  the  promise.  Believe  me,  while  there  may  be  risk 
to  me  in  what  I  ask,  it  is  best  that  you  grant  it,  and 
that  you  remain  in  Peronne  for  a  month  —  perhaps 
for  two  months,  unless  I  sooner  tell  you  to  go." 

"  I  may  not  give  you  the  promise  you  ask,  Frau- 
lein,"  answered  Max,  desperately.  "  You  must  know 
how  gladly  I  would  remain  here  forever." 

"  I  believe  truly  you  want  to  stay,"  she  answered 
demurely,  "  else  I  surely  would  not  ask  this  promise 
of  you.  Your  unspoken  words  have  been  more  elo 
quent  than  any  vows  your  lips  could  coin,  and  I  know 
what  is  in  your  heart,  else  my  boldness  would  have 
been  beyond  excusing.  What  I  wish  is  that  your 
desire  should  be  great  enough  to  keep  you  when 
I  ask  you  to  remain." 

"  I  may  not  think  of  myself  or  my  own  desires, 
Fraulein,"  he  answered.  "Like  the  lady  of  Bur 
gundy,  I  was  shackled  at  my  birth." 

"The  lady  of  Burgundy  is  ever  in  your  mind," 
Yolanda  retorted  sullenly.  "  You  would  give  this 


ON  THE  MOAT   BRIDGE  165 

promise  quickly  enough  were  she  asking  it  —  she 
with  her  vast  estate." 

There  was  an  angry  gleam  in  the  girl's  eyes,  and  a 
dark  cloud  of  unmistakable  jealousy  on  her  face.  She 
stepped  back  from  Max  and  hung  her  head.  After  a 
moment  of  silence  she  said  :  — 

"  You  may  answer  me  to-morrow  night  at  this 
bridge,  Sir  Max.  If  you  do  not  see  fit  to  give  me 
the  promise,  then  I  shall  weary  you  no  further  with 
importunity,  and  you  may  go  your  way." 

There  was  a  touch  of  coldness  in  her  voice  as  she 
turned  and  walked  slowly  toward  the  bridge.  Max 
called  softly :  — 

«  Yolanda ! " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  continued  with  slow  steps 
and  drooping  head.  As  her  form  was  fading  into  the 
black  shadow  of  the  castle  wall  he  ran  across  the 
bridge  to  her,  and  took  her  hand :  — 

"Fraulein,  I  will  be  at  the  bridge  to-morrow  night, 
and  I  will  try  to  give  the  promise  you  ask  of  me." 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    GREAT    EIDDLB 

MAX  was  cautious  in  the  matter  of  making  prom 
ises,  as  every  honest  man  should  be,  since 
he  had  no  thought  of  breaking  them  once  they  were 
given.  Therefore,  he  wished  to  know  that  he  could 
keep  his  word  before  pledging  it.  His  lifelong 
habit  of  asking  my  advice  may  also  have  influenced 
him  in  refusing  the  promise  that  he  so  much  wished 
to  give ;  or  perhaps  he  may  have  wanted  time  to  con 
sider.  He  did  not  want  to  give  the  promise  on  the 
spur  of  an  impulse. 

When  he  had   finished   telling  me  his  troubles,  I 
asked :  — 

"  What  will  you  do  to-morrow  night  ?  " 
My  riddle  was  again  solved ;  Yolanda  was  the 
princess.  Her  words  were  convincing.  All  doubt 
had  been  swept  from  my  mind.  There  would  be 
no  more  battledore  and  shuttlecock  with  my  poor 
brain  on  that  subject.  So  when  Max  said,  "  I  do 
not  know  what  I  shall  do,"  I  offered  my  opinion  ; 
"  You  surprise  me,  Max.  You  lack  enterprise ; 
there  is  no  warmth  in  your  blood.  The  girl  cannot 

166 


THE  GREAT  KIDDLE  167 

harm  you.  Give  her  the  promise.  Are  your  veins 
filled  with  water  and  caution  ? " 

«  What  do  you  mean,  Karl  ?  "  cried  Max,  stepping 
toward  me  with  surprise  and  delight  in  his  face. 
"Are  you  advising  me  wrongly  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life  ? "  Then  there  was  a  touch  of  anger  in 
his  voice  as  he  continued :  "  Have  I  blood  in  my 
veins  ?  Aye,  Karl,  burning,  seething  blood,  and 
every  drop  cries  wildly  for  this  girl  —  this  child. 
I  would  give  the  half  of  it  to  make  her  my  wife 
and  to  make  her  happy.  But  I  would  not  abate 
one  jot  of  my  wretchedness  at  her  expense.  As  I 
treat  her  I  pray  God  to  deal  with  me. .  I  cannot 
make  her  my  wife,  and  if  I  am  half  a  man,  I  would 
not  win  her  everlasting  love  and  throw  it  to  the  dogs. 
She  all  but  asked  me  last  night  to  tell  her  of  my  love 
for  her,  and  almost  pressed  hers  upon  me,  but  I  did 
not  even  kiss  her  hand.  Ah,  Karl,  I  wish  I  were 
dead ! " 

The  poor  boy  threw  himself  on  the  bed  and  buried 
his  face  in  his  hands.  I  went  to  him  and,  seating 
myself  on  the  bed,  ran  my  fingers  through  his 
curls. 

"  My  dear  Max,  I  have  never  advised  you  wrongly. 
Perhaps  luck  has  been  with  me.  Perhaps  my  good 
advice  has  been  owing  to  my  great  caution  and  my 
deep  love  for  you.  I  am  sure  that  I  do  not  advise 
you  wrongly  now.  Go  to  the  bridge  to-morrow  night, 


168  YOLANDA 

and  givre  Yolanda  the  promise  she  asks.  If  she  wants 
it,  give  her  the  ring.  Keep  restraint  upon  your  words 
and  acts,  but  do  not  fear  for  one  single  moment  that 
my  advice  is  wrong.  Max,  I  know  whereof  I  speak." 

Max  rose  'from  the  bed  and  looked  at  me  in  sur 
prise  ;  but  my  advice  jumped  so  entirely  with  the 
longing  deep  buried  in  his  heart  that  he  took  it  as  a 
dying  man  accepts  life. 

The  next  evening  Max  met  Yolanda  under  the  trees 
near  the  bridge. 

"  I  may  remain  but  a  moment,"  she  said  hurriedly 
and  somewhat  coldly.  "  Do  you  bring  me  the 
promise  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Max.  "  I  have  also  brought  you 
the  ring,  Fraulein,  but  you  may  not  wear  it,  and  no 
one  may  ever  see  it." 

"  Ah,  Max,  it  is  well  that  you  have  brought  me  the 
promise,  for  had  you  not  you  would  never  have  seen  me 
again.  I  thank  you  for  the  promise  and  for  the  ring. 
No  one  shall  see  it.  Of  that  you  may  be  doubly  sure. 
If  by  any  chance  some  meddlesome  body  should  see 
it  and  tell  this  arrogant  lady  of  the  castle  that  I  have 
the  keepsake  she  sent  you,  there  would  be  trouble, 
Max,  there  would  be  trouble.  She  is  a  jealous,  vin 
dictive  little  wretch  and  you  shall  not  think  on  her. 
No  doubt  she  would  have  me  torn  limb  from  limb  if 
she  knew  I  possessed  the  jewel.  When  I  touch  it,  I 
feel  that  I  almost  hate  this  princess,  whose  vast 


THE  GREAT  RIDDLE  169 

estates  hav+e  a  power  of  attraction  greater  than  any 
woman  may  exert." 

There  was  real  anger  in  her  tone.  In  truth,  dislike 
and  aversion  were  manifest  in  every  word  she  spoke 
of  the  princess,  save  when  the  tender  little  heart 
pitied  her. 

"Now  I  must  say  good  night  and  adieu,  Sir  Max, 
until  uncle  returns,"  said  Yolanda.  She  gave  Max 
her  hands  and  he,  in  bringing  them  to  his  lips,  drew 
her  close  to  him.  At  that  moment  they  were  startled 
by  a  boisterous  laugh  close  beside  them,  and  the  fellow 
calling  himself  Count  Calli  slapped  Max  on  the  back, 
saying  in  French  :  — 

"  Nicely  done,  my  boy,  nicely  done.  But  you  are 
far  too  considerate.  Why  kiss  a  lady's  hand  when 
her  lips  are  so  near  ?  1  will  show  you,  Fraulein 
Castleman,  exactly  how  so  delicate  a  transaction  is 
conducted  by  an  enterprising  gentleman." 

He  insultingly  took  hold  of  Yolanda,  and,  with 
evident  intent  to  kiss  her,  tried  to  lift  the  veil  with 
which  she  had  hastily  covered  her  face.  Max 
struck  the  fellow  a  blow  that  felled  him  to  the 
ground,  but  Calli  rose  and,  drawing  his  dagger,  rushed 
upon  Max.  Yolanda  stood  almost  paralyzed  with 
terror.  Max  was  unarmed,  but  he  seized  Calli's  wrist 
and  twisted  it  till  a  small  bone  cracked,  and  the 
dagger  fell  from  his  hand  to  the  ground.  Calli's  arm 
hung  limp  at  his  side,  and  he  was  powerless  to  do 


170  YOLANDA 

further  injury.  Max  did  not  take  advantage  of  his 
helplessness,  but  said  :  — 

"  Go,  or  I  will  twist  your  neck  as  I  have  broken 
your  wrist." 

Max  had  gone  out  that  evening  without  arms  or 
armor.  He  had  not  even  a  dagger. 

When  Calli  had  passed  out  of  sight,  Yolanda 
stooped,  picked  up  his  dagger,  and  offered  it  to  Max, 
saying:  — 

"He  will  gather  his  friends  at  once.  Take  this 
dagger  and  hasten  back  to  the  inn,  or  you  will  never 
reach  it  alive.  No,  come  with  me  to  Uncle  Cas- 
tleman's  house.  There  you  may  lie  concealed." 

"  I  may  not  go  to  your  uncle's  house,  Fraulein," 
answered  Max.  "  I  can  go  safely  to  the  inn.  Do 
not  fear  for  me." 

Yolanda  protested  frantically,  but  Max  refused. 

"  Go  quickly,  then,"  she  said,  "  and  be  on  your 
guard  at  all  times.  This  man  who  came  upon  us  is 
Count  Calli,  the  greatest  villain  in  Burgundy.  He 
is  a  friend  of  Campo-Basso.  Now  hasten  to  the  inn, 
if  you  will  not  come  with  me  to  uncle's  house,  and 
beware,  for  this  man  and  his  friends  will  seek  ven 
geance  ;  of  that  you  must  never  allow  yourself  to 
doubt.  Adieu,  till  uncle  comes." 

Max  reached  the  inn  unmolested.  We  donned  our 
mail  shirts,  expecting  trouble,  and  took  turn  and  turn 
watching  and  sleeping.  Next  day  we  hired  two  stal- 


THE   GREAT  KIDDLE  171 

wart  Irish  squires  and  armed  them  cap-a-pie.  We 
meant  to  give  our  Italian  friends  a  hot  welcome 
if  they  attacked  us,  though  we  had,  in  truth,  little 
fear  of  an  open  assault.  We  dreaded  more  a  dagger 
thrust  in  the  back,  or  trouble  from  court  through  the 
machinations  of  Campo-Basso. 

The  next  morning  Max  sent  one  of  our  Irishmen 
to  Castleman's  house  with  a  verbal  message  to  Frau- 
lein  Castleman.  When  the  messenger  returned,  he 
replied  to  my  question :  — 

"  I  was  shown  into  a  little  room  where  three  ladies 
sat.  <  What  have  you  to  say  ? '  asked  the  little  black- 
haired  one  in  the  corner  —  she  with  the  great  eyes 
and  the  face  pale  as  a  chalk-cliff.  I  said,  '  I  am  in 
structed,  mesdames,  to  deliver  this  simple  message: 
Sir  Max  is  quite  well.'  '  That  will  do.  Thank  you.' 
said  the  big  eyes  and  the  pale  face.  Then  she  gave 
me  two  gold  florins.  The  money  almost  took  my 
breath,  and  when  I  looked  up  to  thank  her,  blest 
if  the  white  face  wasn't  rosy  as  a  June  dawn.  When 
I  left,  she  was  dancing  about  the  room  singing  and 
laughing,  and  kissing  everybody  but  me  —  worse 
luck !  By  Saint  Patrick,  I  never  saw  so  simple  a 
message  create  so  great  a  commotion.  « Sir  Max 
is  quite  well.'  I'm  blest  if  he  doesn't  look  it.  Was 
he  ever  ill?" 

After  five  or  six  days  we  allowed  ourselves  to  fall 
into  a  state  of  unwatchfulness.  One  warm  evening 


172  YOLANDA 

we  dismissed  our  squires  for  an  hour's  recreation. 
The  Cologne  River  flows  by  the  north  side  of  the  inn 
garden,  and,  the  spot  being  secluded,  Max  and  I,  after 
dark,  cooled  ourselves  by  a  plunge  in  the  water. 
We  had  come  from  the  water  and  finished  dressing, 
save  for  our  doublets,  which  lay  upon  the  sod,  when 
two  men  approached  whom  we  thought  to  be  our 
squires.  When  first  we  saw  them,  they  were  in  the 
deep  shadow  of  the  trees  that  grew  near  the  water's 
edge,  and  we  did  not  notice  their  halberds  until 
they  were  upon  us.  When  the  men  had  approached 
within  four  yards,  we  heard  a  noise  back  of  us 
and  turning  saw  four  soldiers,  each  bearing  an 
arquebuse  pointed  in  our  direction.  At  the  same 
moment  another  man  stepped  from  behind  the  two 
we  had  first  seen  and  came  quickly  to  me.  He  was 
Count  Calli.  In  his  left  hand  he  held  a  parchment. 
Max  and  I  were  surrounded  and  unarmed. 

"  I  arrest  you  on  the  order  of  His  Grace,  the  duke," 
said  Calli,  in  low  tones,  speaking  French  with  an 
Italian  accent. 

«  Your  authority  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  This,"  he  said,  offering  me  the  parchment,  "  and 
this,"  touching  his  sword.  I  took  the  parchment  but 
could  not  read  it  in  the  dark. 

"  I'll  go  to  the  inn  to  read  your  warrant,"  I  said, 
stooping  to  take  up  my  doublet. 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  he  answered. 


THE   GEEAT  KIDDLE  173 

"One  word  more  from  you,  and  there  will  be  no 
need  to  arrest  you.  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  dis 
pense  with  that  duty." 

I  felt  sure  he  wished  us  to  resist  that  he  might 
have  a  pretext  for  murdering  us.  I  could  see  that 
slow-going  Max  was  making  ready  for  a  fight,  even 
at  the  odds  of  seven  to  two,  and  to  avert  trouble 
I  spoke  softly  in  German :  — 

"  These  men  are  eager  to  kill  us.  Our  only  hope 
lies  in  submission." 

While  I  was  speaking  the  men  gathered  closely 
about  us,  and  almost  before  my  words  were  uttered, 
our  wrists  were  manacled  behind  us  and  we  were 
blindfolded.  Our  captors  at  once  led  us  away.  A 
man  on  either  side  of  me  held  my  arms,  and  by  way 
of  warning  I  received  now  and  then  a  merciless 
prod  between  my  shoulder-blades  from  a  halberd  in 
the  hands  of  an  enthusiastic  soul  that  walked  behind 
me.  Max,  I  supposed,  was  receiving  like  treatment. 

After  a  hundred  paces  or  more  we  waded  the 
river,  and  then  I  knew  nothing  of  our  whereabouts. 
Within  a  half-hour  we  crossed  a  bridge  which  I 
supposed  was  the  one  over  the  moat  at  the  Postern. 
There  we  halted,  and  the  password  was  given  in  a 
whisper.  Then  came  the  clanking  of  chains  and 
creaking  of  hinges,  and  I  knew  the  gates  were  open 
ing  and  the  portcullis  rising.  After  the  gates  were 
opened  I  was  again  urged  forward  by  the  men  on 


174  YOLANDA 

either  side  of  me  and  the  enterprising  soul  in  the 
rear. 

I  noticed  that  I  was  walking  on  smooth  flags  in 
place  of  cobble-stones,  and  I  was  sure  we  were  in 
the  bailey  yard  of  the  castle.  Soon  I  was  stopped 
again,  a  door  opened,  squeaking  on  its  rusty  hinges, 
and  we  began  the  descent  of  a  narrow  stairway. 
Twenty  or  thirty  paces  from  the  foot  of  the  stair 
way  we  stopped  while  another  door  was  opened. 
This,  I  felt  sure,  was  the  entrance  to  an  underground 
cell,  out  of  which  God  only  knew  if  I  should  ever 
come  alive.  While  I  was  being  thrust  through  the 
door,  I  could  not  resist  calling  out,  "  Max  —  Max, 
for  the  love  of  God  answer  me  if  you  hear ! "  I 
got  no  answer.  Then  I  appealed  to  my  guard  :  — 

"Let  me  have  one  moment's  speech  with  him, 
only  one  moment.  I  will  pay  you  a  thousand 
crowns  the  day  I  am  liberated  if  you  grant  me  this 
favor." 

"  No  one  is  with  you,"  the  man  replied.  "  I  would 
willingly  earn  the  thousand  crowns,  but  if  they  are  to 
be  paid  when  you  are  liberated,  I  fear  I  should  starve 
waiting  for  them." 

With  these  comforting  words  they  thrust  me  into 
the  cell,  manacled  and  blindfolded.  I  heard  the 
door  clang  to ;  the  rusty  lock  screeched  venomously, 
and  then  I  was  alone  in  gravelike  silence.  I  hardly 
dared  to  take  a  step,  for  I  knew  these  underground 


THE   GREAT  RIDDLE  175 

cells  were  honeycombed  with  death-traps.  I  could 
not  grope  about  me  with  my  hands,  for  they  were 
tied,  and  I  knew  not  what  pitfall  my  feet  might  find. 

How  long  I  stood  without  moving  I  did  not  know ; 
it  might  have  been  an  hour  or  a  day  for  all  I  could 
tell.  I  was  almost  stupefied  by  this  misfortune  into 
which  I  had  led  Max.  I  do  not  remember  having 
thought  at  all  of  my  own  predicament.  I  cannot  say 
that  I  suffered  ;  I  was  benumbed.  I  remember  won 
dering  about  Max  and  speculating  vaguely  on  his  fate, 
but  for  a  time  the  thought  did  not  move  me.  I  also 
remember  sinking  to  the  floor,  only  half  conscious  of 
what  I  was  doing,  and  then  I  must  have  swooned  or 
slept. 

When  I  recovered  consciousness  I  rose  to  my  feet. 
A  step  or  two  brought  me  against  a  damp  stone  wall. 
Three  short  paces  in  another  direction,  and  once 
more  I  was  against  the  wall.  Then  I  stopped, 
turned  my  back  to  the  reeking  stone,  and  cursed 
the  brutes  that  had  treated  me  with  such  wanton 
cruelty.  It  was  not  brutal ;  it  was  human.  No 
brute  could  feel  it ;  only  in  the  heart  of  man  could 
it  live. 

By  chafing  the  back  of  my  head  against  the  wall  I 
succeeded  in  removing  the  bandage  from  my  eyes. 
Though  I  was  more  comfortable,  I  was  little  better  off, 
since  I  could  see  nothing  in  the  pitiless  black  of  my 
cell.  I  stretched  my  eyes,  as  one  will  in  the  dark,  till 


176  YOLANDA 

they  ached,  but  I  could  not  see  even  an  outline  of  the 
walls. 

A  burning  thirst  usually  follows  excitement,  and 
after  a  time  it  came  to  me  and  grew  while  I 
thought  upon  it.  My  parched  throat  was  almost 
closed,  and  I  wondered  if  I  were  to  be  left  to  choke 
to  death.  I  knew  that  in  Spain  and  Italy  such 
refinement  of  cruelty  was  oftened  practised,  but 
I  felt  sure  that  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  would  not 
permit  the  infliction  of  so  cruel  a  fate,  did  he  know 
of  it.  But  our  captors  were  not  Burgundians,  and 
I  doubted  if  the  duke  even  knew  of  our  imprison 
ment.  I  suffered  intensely,  though  I  believe  I  could 
have  endured  it  with  fortitude  had  I  not  known 
that  Max  was  suffering  a  like  fate. 

I  believed  I  had  been  several  days  in  my  cell  when  I 
heard  a  key  turn  in  the  lock.  The  door  opened,  and 
a  man  bearing  a  basket  and  a  lantern  entered.  He 
placed  the  basket  on  the  ground  and,  with  the  lantern 
hung  over  his  arm,  unfastened  the  manacles  of  my 
wrists.  In  the  basket  were  a  boule  of  black  bread 
and  a  stone  jar  of  water.  I  eagerly  grasped  the  jar, 
and  never  in  my  life  has  anything  passed  my  lips  that 
tasted  so  sweet  as  that  draught. 

"  Don't  drink  too  much  at  one  time,"  said  the 
guard,  not  unkindly.  "  It  might  drive  you  mad.  A 
man  went  mad  in  this  cell  less  than  a  month  ago 
from  drinking  too  much  water," 


THE  GREAT  EIDDLE  177 

"  How  long  had  he  been  without  it  ? "  I  asked  of 
this  cheering  personage. 

"  Three  days,"  he  responded. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  men  of  the  north  could  be 
so  cruel  as  to  keep  a  prisoner  three  days  without 
water,"  I  said. 

"  It  happened  because  the  guard  was  drunk,"  an 
swered  the  fellow,  laughing. 

"  I  hope  you  will  remain  sober,"  said  I,  not  at  all 
intending  to  be  humorous,  though  the  guard  laughed. 

"  I  was  the  guard,"  he  replied.  "  I  did  not  intend 
to  leave  the  prisoner  without  water,  but,  you  see,  I 
was  dead  drunk  and  did  not  know  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  been  drunk  for  the  last  three 
or  four  days  since  I  have  been  here  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  laughed  boisterously. 

"  You  here  three  or  four  days  !  Why,  you  are  mad 
already  !  You  have  been  here  only  over  night." 

Well !     I  thought  surely  I  was  mad  ! 

Suddenly  the  guard  left  me  and  closed  the  cell 
door.  I  called  frantically  to  him,  but  I  might  as  well 
have  cried  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

After  what  seemed  fully  another  week  of  waiting, 
the  guard  again  came  with  bread  and  water.  By 
that  time  my  mind  had  cleared.  I  asked  the  guard 
to  deliver  a  message  to  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt  and 
offered  a  large  reward  for  the  service.  I  begged  him  to 
say  to  Hymbercourt  that  his  friends  of  The  Mitre  had 


178  YOLANDA 

been  arrested  and  were  now  in  prison.  The  guard 
willingly  promised  to  deliver  ray  message,  but  he  did 
not  keep  his  word,  though  I  repeated  my  request  many 
times  and  promised  him  any  reward  he  might  name 
when  I  should  regain  my  liberty.  With  each  visit  he 
repeated  his  promise,  but  one  day  he  laughed  and  said 
I  was  wasting  words ;  that  he  would  never  see  the  re 
ward  and  that  in  all  probability  I  should  never  again 
see  the  light  of  day.  His  ominous  words  almost  pros 
trated  me,  though  again  I  say  I  suffered  chiefly  for 
Max's  sake.  Could  I  have  gained  his  liberty  at  the 
cost  of  my  life,  nay,  even  my  soul,  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  do  it. 

But  I  will  not  further  describe  the  tortures  of  my  im 
prisonment.  The  greatest  of  them  all  was  my  igno 
rance  of  Max's  fate.  It  was  a  frightful  ordeal,  and  I 
wonder  that  my  reason  survived  it. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  HOUSE  UNDER  THE  WALL 

TO  leave  Max  and  myself  in  our  underground  dun 
geon,  imprisoned  for  an  unknown,  uncommitted 
crime,  while  I  narrate  occurrences  outside  our  prison 
walls  looks  like  a  romancer's  trick,  but  how  else  I 
am  to  go  about  telling  this  history  I  do  not  know. 
Yolanda  is  quite  as  important  a  personage  in  this 
narrative  as  Max  and  myself,  and  I  must  tell  of 
her  troubles  as  I  learned  of  them  long  afterwards. 

Castleman  reached  home  ten  days  or  a  fortnight 
after  our  arrest,  bringing  with  him  his  precious  silks, 
velvets,  and  laces  to  the  last  ell.  As  he  had  pre 
dicted,  they  were  quadrupled  in  value,  and  their 
increase  made  the  good  burgher  a  very  rich  man. 

Soon  after  Castleman  reached  the  House  under  the 
Wall,  Yolanda  came  dancing  into  the  room  where  he 
was  sitting  with  good  Frau  Katherine,  drinking  a 
bottle  of  rich  Burgundy  wine  well  mixed  with  pepper 
and  honey. 

"  Ah,  uncle,"  she  cried  joyously,  "  at  last  you  are 
at  home,  and  I  have  a  fine  kiss  for  you." 

179 


180  YOLANDA 

"Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  Castleman,  "you 
have  spoiled  my  wine.  The  honey  will  now  taste 
vinegarish." 

"You  are  a  flatterer,  uncle  —  isn't  he,  tante  ? " 
laughed  Yolanda,  turning  to  Aunt  Castleman. 

"  I  am  afraid  he  is,"  said  the  good  frau,  in  mock 
distress.  "  Every  one  tries  to  spoil  him." 

"  You  more  than  any  one,  tante,"  cried  Yolanda. 

"Tut,  tut,  child,"  cried  Frau  Katherine,  "I  abate 
his  vanity  with  frowns." 

Yolanda  laughed,  and  the  burgher,  pinching  his 
wife's  red  cheek,  protested  :  — 

«  You  frown  ?  You  couldn't  frown  if  you  tried. 
A  clear  sky  may  rain  as  easily.  Get  the  peering 
glass,  Yolanda,  and  find,  if  you  can,  a  wrinkle  on  her 
face." 

Yolanda,  who  was  always  laughing,  threw  herself 
upon  the  frau's  lap  and  pretended  to  hunt  for 
wrinkles.  Soon  she  reported  :  — 

"  No  wrinkles,  uncle  —  there,  you  dear  old  tante, 
I'll  kiss  you  to  keep  you  from  growing  jealous  of 
uncle  on  my  account." 

"  If  any  one  about  this  house  has  been  spoiled,  it's 
you,  Yolanda,"  said  Frau  Kate,  affectionately. 

"When  you  speak  after  that  fashion,  tante,  you 
almost  make  me  weep,"  said  Yolanda.  "  Surely  you 
and  uncle  and  Twonette  are  the  only  friends  I  have, 
and  give  me  all  the  joy  I  know.  But,  uncle,  now 


THE  HOUSE   UNDER  THE  WALL  181 

that  you  are  at  home,  I  want  you  to  drink  your  wine 
quickly  and  give  me  a  great  deal  of  joy  —  oh,  a  great 
deal." 

"  Indeed  I  will,  my  dear.  Tell  me  where  to 
begin,"  answered  Castleman,  draining  his  goblet. 

Yolanda  flushed  rosily  and  hesitated.  At  that 
moment  Twonette,  who  had  already  greeted  her 
father,  entered  the  room. 

"Twonette  will  tell  you,"  said  Yolanda,  laughing 
nervously. 

»  What  shall  I  tell  him  ?  "  asked  Twonette. 

"  You  will  tell  him  what  I  want  him  to  do  quickly, 
at  once,  immediately,"  pleaded  Yolanda.  "  You  know 
what  I  have  waited  for  this  long,  weary  time." 

"  Tell  him  yourself  what  you  want  quickly,  at  once, 
immediately,"  answered  Twonette.  « I,  too,  have 
wants." 

"  What  do  you  want,  daughter  ?  "  asked  Castle 
man,  beaming  upon  Twonette. 

"  I  w^ant  thirty  ells  of  blue  velvet  for  a  gown,  and 
I  want  you  to  ask  permission  of  the  duke  for  me  to 
wear  it." 

"  Many  noble  ladies  would  not  dare  to  ask  so 
much  of  the  duke,"  suggested  Castleman. 

"  It  is  true,  George,"  said  Frau  Kate,  "  that  only 
noble  ladies  of  high  degree  are  permitted  to  wear 
velvet  of  blue ;  but  it  is  also  true  that  only  your 
stubbornness  has  deprived  our  daughter  of  that  privi- 


182  YOLANDA 

lege.  She  might  now  be  noble  had  you  not  been 
stubborn." 

«  I  also  want  —  "  began  Twonette. 

"You  shall  wear  the  duke's  own  color,  purple,  if 
you  will  hold  your  tongue  about  worthless  matters 
and  tell  your  father  what  I  want,"  cried  Yolanda, 
impetuously  thrusting  Twonette  toward  Castleman. 

"  You  tell  him  your  own  wants,"  answered  Two 
nette,  pouting.  "  Then  perhaps  his  own  daughter 
may  have  his  ear  for  a  moment  or  two." 

Yolanda  laughed  at  Twonette's  display  of  ill- 
temper. 

"  Well,  uncle,  since  I  must  tell  my  own  tale,  I  will 
begin,"  said  Yolanda,  blushing.  "  I  want  you  to 
go  to  The  Mitre  and  ask  a  friend  —  two  friends  —  of 
yours  here  to  supper  this  evening.  I  have  waited 
a  weary  time  for  you  to  give  this  invitation,  and  I 
will  not  wait  another  hour,  nay,  not  another  minute. 
We  have  a  fat  peacock  that  longs  to  be  killed ;  it  is 
so  fat  that  it  is  tired  of  life.  We  have  three  pheas 
ants  that  will  die  of  grief  if  they  are  not  baked  at 
once.  I  myself  have  been  feeding  them  this  fort 
night  past  in  anticipation  of  this  feast.  We  have  a 
dozen  wrens  for  a  live  pie,  so  tame  they  will  light  on 
our  heads  when  you  cut  the  crust.  We  shall  have 
a  famous  feast,  uncle.  There  will  be  present  only 
tante,  you,  Twonette,  our  two  guests,  and  myself. 
Now,  uncle,  the  wine  is  consumed.  Hurry  to  the  inn." 


THE   HOUSE   UNDER  THE  WALL  183 

"My  dear  child,"  said  Castleman,  seriously,  "you 
know  that  I  am  almost  powerless  to  refuse  any  re 
quest  you  make,  but  in  this  case  I  must  do  so." 

"  Ah,  uncle,  please  tell  me  why,"  coaxed  Yolanda, 
with  trouble  in  her  eyes  and  grief  at  the  corners  of 
her  mouth. 

"  Because  you  must  see  no  more  of  this  very  pleas 
ing  young  man,"  answered  Castleman.  "  I  yielded 
to  your  wishes  at  Basel  and  brought  him  with  us ; 
I  was  compelled  to  send  him  with  you  from  Metz ; 
but  now  that  our  journey  is  over,  I  shall  thank  him 
and  pay  him  an  additional  sum,  since  my  goods  are 
safe  home,  and  say  farewell  to  him.  I  believe  he  is 
a  worthy  and  honorable  young  man,  but  we  do  not 
know  who  he  is,  and  if  we  did  —  " 

"Ah,  but  /know  who  he  is,"  interrupted  Yolanda, 
tossing  her  head.  "  We  may  not  know,  but  /know, 
and  that  is  sufficient." 

"  Do  you  know  ?  "  asked  Castleman.  "  Pray  tell 
me  of  him.  The  information  was  refused  me;  at 
least,  it  was  not  given.  He  is  probably  of  noble 
birth,  but  we  have  nobles  here  in  Peronne  whom  we 
would  not  ask  to  our  house.  We  know  nothing  of 
this  wandering  young  Max,  save  that  he  .  is  honest 
and  brave  and  good  to  look  upon." 

"  In  God's  name,  uncle,  what  more  would  you 
ask  in  a  man  ? "  cried  Yolanda,  stamping  her  foot. 
" '  Noble,  honest,  brave,  and  good  to  look  upon  ! '  Will 


184  YOLANDA 

not  those  qualities  fit  a  man  for  any  one's  regard  and 
delight  any  woman's  heart  ?  I  tell  you  I  will  have 
my  way  in  this.  I  tell  you  I  know  his  degree.  I 
know  who  he  is  and  what  he  is  and  all  about  him, 
though  I  don't  intend  to  tell  you  anything,  and  would 
inform  you  now  that  it's  no  business  of  yours." 

"  Did  you  coax  all  this  information  out  of  him, 
you  little  witch  ?  "  asked  Castleman,  smiling  against 
his  will. 

"  I  did  not,"  retorted  Yolanda,  leaning  forward 
and  lifting  her  chin  defiantly.  "I  learned  it  soon 
after  we  reached  Basel.  I  discovered  it  by  —  by 
magic  —  by  sorcery.  He  will  tell  you  as  much." 

"  By  the  magic  of  your  eyes  and  smiles.  That's 
the  way  you  wheedled  it  out  of  him,  and  that's  the 
way  you  coax  every  one  to  your  will,"  said  Castle 
man,  laughing  while  Yolanda  pouted. 

"  I  never  saw  a  girl  make  such  eyes  at  a  man  as 
you  made  at  this  Sir  Max,"  said  Twonette,  wrho  was 
waiting  for  her  blue  velvet  gown. 

«  Twonette,  you  are  prettier  with  your  mouth  shut. 
Silence  becomes  you,"  retorted  Yolanda,  favoring 
Twonette  with  a  view  of  her  back.  "  Now,  uncle," 
continued  Yolanda,  "  all  is  ready :  peacock,  pheas 
ants,  wrens ;  and  I  command  you  to  procure  the 
guests." 

Castleman  laughed  at  her  imperious  ways  and 
said  :  — 


THE  HOUSE  UNDER  THE  WALL     185 

"  I  will  obey  your  commands  in  all  else,  Yolanda, 
but  not  in  this." 

The  girl,  who  was  more  excited  than  she  appeared 
to  be,  stood  for  a  moment  by  her  uncle's  side,  and, 
drawing  her  kerchief  from  its  pouch,  placed  it  to  her 
eyes. 

"  Every  one  tries  to  make  me  unhappy,"  she  sobbed. 
"  There  is  no  one  to  whom  I  may  turn  for  kindness. 
If  you  will  not  do  this  for  me,  uncle,  if  you  will 
not  bring  him  —  them  —  to  me,  I  give  you  my  sacred 
word  I  will  go  to  them  at  the  inn.  If  you  force  me 
to  do  an  act  so  unmaidenly,  I'll  leave  you  and  will 
not  return  to  your  house.  I  shall  know  that  you  do 
not  love  me !  " 

Castleman  was  not  ready  to  yield,  though  he  was 
sure  that  in  the  end  he  would  do  so.  He  also  knew 
that  her  threat  to  go  to  the  inn  was  by  no  means  an 
idle  word. 

Yolanda  was  not  given  to  tears,  but  she  used  them 
when  she  found  she  could  accomplish  her  ends  by  no 
other  means.  A  long  pause  ensued,  broken  by  Yo- 
landa's  sobs. 

"  Good-by,  uncle.  Good-by,  tante.  Good-by,  Two- 
nette.  I  mean  what  I  say,  uncle.  I  am  going,  and 
I  shall  not  come  back  if  you  will  not  do  this  thing 
for  me.  I  am  going  to  the  inn." 

She  kissed  them  all  and  started  toward  the  door. 
The  loving  old  tante  could  not  hold  out.  She,  too, 


186  YOLANDA 

was  weeping,  and  she  added  her  supplications  to 
Yolanda's. 

"Do  what  she  asks,  father  —  only  this  once,"  said 
Frau  Kate. 

"  Only  this  once,"  pleaded  Yolanda,  turning  her 
tear-moistened  eyes  upon  the  helpless  burgher. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  surrender,"  exclaimed  Castle- 
man,  rising  from  his  chair.  "  I  have  been  surrender 
ing  to  you,  your  aunt,  and  Twonette  all  my  life. 
First  Kate,  then  Twonette,  and  of  late  years  they 
have  been  reenforced  by  you,  Yolanda,  and  my  day  is 
lost.  I  do  a  little  useless  fighting  when  I  know  I  am 
in  the  right,  but  it  is  always  followed  by  a  cowardly 
surrender." 

"  But  think  of  your  victories  in  surrender,  uncle. 
Think  of  your  rewards,"  cried  Yolanda,  running  to  his 
side  and  kissing  him.  "  Many  a  man  would  fight  a 
score  of  dragons  for  that  kiss." 

"  Dragons  !  "  cried  Castleman,  protestingly.  "  I 
would  rather  fight  a  hundred  dragons  than  do  this 
thing  for  you,  Yolanda.  I  know  little  concerning  the 
ways  of  a  girl's  heart,  but,  ignorant  as  I  am,  I  could 
see  —  Mother,  I  never  saw  a  girl  so  infatuated  with 
a  man  as  our  Yolanda  is  with  this  Sir  Max  —  this 
stranger." 

"  There,  tante,"  cried  Yolanda,  turning  triumph 
antly  to  Frau  Kate,  «  you  hear  what  uncle  says.  Now 
you  see  the  great  reason  for  having  him  here  —  this 


THE  HOUSE   UNDER  THE  WALL  187 

Sir  Max  and  his  friend.  But,  uncle,  if  you  think  I 
mean  to  make  a  fool  of  myself  about  this  man,  put 
the  notion  out  of  your  head.  I  know  only  too  well 
the  barrier  between  us,  but,  uncle  mine,"  she  contin 
ued  pleadingly,  all  her  wonted  joyousness  driven  from 
her  face,  "  I  am  so  wretched,  so  unhappy.  If  I  may 
have  a  moment  of  joy  now,  for  the  love  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  don't  deny  me.  I  sometimes  think  you  love  me 
chiefly  because  I  so  truly  deserve  your  pity.  As  for 
this  young  man,  he  is  gentle,  strong,  and  good,  and,  as 
you  say,  he  certainly  is  good  to  look  upon.  Two- 
nette  knows  that,  don't  you,  Twonette  ?  He  is  wise, 
too,  and  brave,  even  against  the  impulse  of  his  own 
great  heart.  He  thinks  only  of  my  good  and  his 
own  duties.  I  am  in  no  danger  from  him,  uncle. 
He  can  do  me  only  good.  I  shall  be  happier  and  bet 
ter  all  my  life  long  for  having  known  him.  Now, 
uncle  ?  " 

"  I  will  fetch  him,"  exclaimed  Castleman,  seeking 
his  hat.  "  You  may  be  right  or  you  may  be  wrong, 
but  for  persuasiveness  I  never  saw  your  like.  I  de 
clare,  Yolanda,  you  have  almost  made  me  feel  like 
a  villain  for  refusing  you." 

"  I  wish  the  world  were  filled  with  such  villains, 
uncle.  Don't  you,  tante  ?  "  said  Yolanda,  beaming 
upon  the  burgher. 

"  No,"  answered  the  frau,  "  I  should  want  them  all 
for  my  husbands." 


188  YOLANDA 

"  God  forbid  ! "  cried  Yolanda,  lifting  her  hands  as 
she  turned  toward  the  door,  laughing  once  more. 
"  Tell  them  to  be  here  by  six  o'clock,  uncle.  No ! 
we  will  say  five.  Tell  them  to  come  on  the  stroke  of 
five.  No  !  four  o'clock  is  better ;  then  we  will  sup  at 
six,  and  have  an  hour  or  two  before  we  eat.  That's 
it,  uncle ;  have  them  here  by  four.  Tell  them  to 
fail  not  by  so  much  as  a  minute,  upon  their  allegiance. 
Tell  them  to  be  here  promptly  on  the  stroke  of  four." 

She  ran  from  the  room  singing,  and  Castleman 
started  toward  the  front  door. 

"  The  girl  makes  a  fool  of  me  whenever  she  wishes," 
he  observed,  pausing  and  turning  toward  his  wife. 
"She  coaxed  me  to  take  her  to  Basel,  and  life  was  a 
burden  till  I  got  her  home  again.  Now  she  winds  me 
around  her  finger  and  says,  '  Uncle  Castleman,  obey 
me,'  and  I  obey.  Truly,  there  never  was  in  all  the 
world  such  another  coaxing,  persuasive  little  witch  as 
our  Yolanda." 

"  Poor  child,"  said  Frau  Kate,  as  her  husband 
passed  out  of  the  door. 

Castleman  reached  The  Mitre  near  the  hour  of  one, 
and  of  course  did  not  find  us.  At  half-past  four, 
Yolanda  entered  the  great  oak  room  where  Twonette 
and  Frau  Kate  were  stitching  tapestry. 

"  Where  suppose  you  Sir  Max  is  —  and  Sir  Karl  ?  " 
asked  Yolanda,  with  a  touch  of  anger  in  her  voice. 
"  Why  has  he  not  come  ?  I  have  been  watching  but 


THE   HOUSE   UNDER   THE   WALL  189 

have  not  seen  him  —  them.  He  places  little  value  on 
our  invitation  to  slight  it  by  half  an  hour.  I  am  of 
half  a  mind  not  to  see  him  when  he  comes." 

"  Your  uncle  is  downstairs  under  the  arbor,  Yo- 
landa,"  said  Frau  Castleman,  gently.  "  He  will  tell 
you,  sweet  one,  why  Sir  Max  is  not  here." 

Frau  Katherine  and  Twonette  put  aside  their  tap 
estry,  and  went  with  Yolanda  to  question  Castleman 
in  the  arbor. 

« Well,  uncle,  where  are  our  guests  ? "  asked 
Yolanda. 

"  They  are  not  at  the  inn,  and  have  not  been  there 
since  nearly  a  fortnight  ago,"  answered  Castleman. 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  Yolanda,  aflame  with  sudden  anger. 
"  He  gave  me  his  word  he  would  not  go.  I'm  glad  he's 
gone,  and  I  hope  I  may  never  see  his  face  again.  I 
deemed  his  word  inviolate,  and  now  he  has  broken  it." 

"  Do  not  judge  Sir  Max  too  harshly,"  said  Castle 
man  ;  "  you  may  wrong  him.  I  do  not  at  all  under 
stand  the  absence  of  our  friends.  Grote  tells  me  they 
went  to  the  river  one  night  to  bathe  and  did  not 
return.  Their  horses  and  arms  are  at  the  inn.  Their 
squires,  who  had  left  them  two  hours  before,  have 
not  been  seen  since.  Grote  has  heard  nothing  of  our 
friends  that  will  throw  light  on  their  whereabouts. 
Fearing  to  get  himself  into  trouble,  he  has  stupidly 
held  his  tongue.  He  was  not  inclined  to  speak  plainly 
even  to  me." 


190  YOLANDA 

"  Blessed  Mother,  forgive  me ! "  cried  Yolanda, 
sinking  back  upon  a  settle.  After  a  long  silence  she 
continued  :  «  Two  weeks  ago  !  That  was  a  few  days 
after  the  trouble  at  the  bridge." 

"  What  trouble  ?  "  asked  Castleman. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  uncle,  and  you,  tante.  Twonette 
already  knows  of  it,"  answered  Yolanda.  "  Less 
than  three  weeks  ago  I  was  with  Sir  Max  near  the 
moat  bridge.  It  was  dark  —  after  night  —  " 

"  Yolanda  ! "  exclaimed  Castleman,  reproachfully. 

"  Yes,  uncle,  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have  been 
there,  but  I  was,"  said  Yolanda. 

"  Alone  with  Sir  Max  after  dark  ? "  asked  the 
astonished  burgher. 

"  Yes,  alone  with  him,  after  it  was  very  dark," 
answered  Yolanda.  "  I  had  met  him  several  times 
before." 

Castleman  tried  to  speak,  but  Yolanda  interrupted 
him  :  — 

"  Uncle,  I  know  and  admit  the  truth  of  all  you 
would  say,  so  don't  say  it.  While  I  was  standing 
very  near  to  Sir  Max,  uncle,  very  near,  Count  Calli 
came  upon  us  and  offered  me  gross  insult.  Sir  Max, 
being  unarmed,  knocked  the  fellow  down,  and  in  the 
struggle  that  ensued  Count  Calli's  arm  was  broken. 
I  heard  the  bone  snap,  then  Calli,  swearing  ven 
geance,  left  us.  Why  Sir  Max  went  out  unarmed  that 
night  I  do  not  know.  Had  he  been  armed  he  might 


THE  HOUSE  UNDER  THE  WALL     191 

have  killed  Calli ;  that  would  have  prevented  this 
trouble." 

"  I,  too,  wonder  that  Sir  Max  went  out  unarmed," 
said  Castleman  musingly.  "  Why  do  you  suppose  he 
was  so  incautious  ?  " 

« Perhaps  that  is  the  custom  in  Styria.  There 
may  be  less  danger,  less  treachery,  there  than  in  Bur 
gundy,"  suggested  Yolanda. 

"  In  Styria  ! "  exclaimed  Castleman.  "  Sir  Karl 
said  that  he  was  from  Italy.  He  did  not  tell  me 
of  Sir  Max's  home,  but  I  supposed  he  also  was  from 
Italy,  or  perhaps  from  Wiirtemberg —  there  are  many 
Guelphs  in  that  country." 

"  Yes,  I  will  tell  you  of  that  later,  uncle,"  said 
Yolanda.  « When  Calli  left  us,  Sir  Max  returned 
safely  to  the  inn,  having  promised  me  not  to  leave 
Peronne  within  a  month.  This  trouble  has  come 
from  Calli  and  Campo-Basso." 

"  But  you  say  this  young  man  is  from  Styria  ?  " 
asked  Castleman,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Yolanda,  drooping  her  head,  "  he  is 
Maximilian,  Count  of  Hapsburg." 

"  Great  God !  "  exclaimed  Castleman,  starting  to 
his  feet  excitedly.  « If  I  have  brought  these  men 
here  to  be  murdered,  I  shall  die  of  grief;  all  Europe 
will  turn  upon  Burgundy." 

Yolanda  buried  her  face  in  Mother  Kate's  breast ; 
Castleman  walked  to  and  fro,  and  sympathetic  Two- 


192  YOLANDA 

nette  wept  gently.  It  was  not  in  Twonette's  nature 
to  do  anything  violently.  Yolanda,  on  the  contrary, 
was  intense  in  all  her  joys  and  griefs. 

"  Did  Sir  Max  tell  you  who  he  is  ?  "  asked  Castle- 
man,  stopping  in  front  of  Yolanda. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  I  will  tell  you  some  day  how  I 
guessed  it.  He  does  not  know  that  I  know,  and  I 
would  not  have  you  tell  him." 

"Tell  me,  Yolanda,"  demanded  Castleman,  "what 
has  passed  between  you  and  this  Sir  Max  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  uncle,  save  that  I  know  —  ah,  uncle, 
there  is  nothing.  God  pity  me,  there  can  be  nothing. 
Whatever  his  great,  true  heart  feels  may  be  known  to 
me  as  surely  as  if  he  had  spoken  a  thousand  vows, 
but  he  would  not  of  his  own  accord  so  much  as  touch 
my  hand  or  speak  his  love.  He  knows  that  one  in 
his  station  may  not  mate  with  a  burgher  girl.  He 
treats  me  as  a  true  knight  should  treat  a  woman,  and 
if  he  feels  pain  because  of  the  gulf  between  us,  he 
would  not  bring  a  like  pain  to  me.  He  is  a  strong, 
noble  man,  Uncle  Castleman,  and  we  must  save 
him." 

"  If  I  knew  where  to  begin,  I  would  try  at  once," 
said  Castleman,  "but  I  do  not  know,  and  I  cannot 
think  of  — " 

"  I  have  a  plan,"  interrupted  Yolanda,  "  that  will 
set  the  matter  going.  Consult  my  Lord  d'Hymber- 
court ;  he  is  a  friend  of  Sir  Karl's ;  he  may  help  us. 


THE   HOUSE   UNDER  THE   WALL  193 

Tell  him  of  the  trouble  at  the  bridge,  but  say  that 
Twonette,  not  I,  was  there.  If  Lord  d'Hymbercourt 
cannot  help  us,  I'll  try  another  way  if  I  die  for  it." 

Castleman  found  Hymbercourt  and  told  him  the 
whole  story,  substituting  Twonette  for  Yolanda. 

"  It  is  the  work  of  that  accursed  Basso,"  said 
Hymbercourt,  stroking  his  beard.  "  No  villany  is 
too  black  for  him  and  his  minions  to  do." 

"  But  what  have  they  done  ? "  asked  Castleman. 
"  They  surely  would  not  murder  these  men  because  of 
the  quarrel  at  the  bridge." 

"They  would  do  murder  for  half  that  cause," 
replied  Hymbercourt.  "  A  brave  man  hates  an 
assassin,  and  I  am  always  wondering  why  the  duke, 
who  is  so  bold  and  courageous,  keeps  this  band  of 
Italian  cut-throats  at  his  court." 

"  What  can  we  do  to  rescue  our  friends  if  they  still 
live,  or  to  avenge  them  if  dead  ?  "  asked  Castleman. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  answered  Hymbercourt.  "  Let 
me  think  it  all  over,  and  I  will  see  you  at  your  house 
to-night.  Of  this  I  am  certain :  you  must  not  move 
in  the  matter.  If  you  are  known  to  be  interested, 
certain  facts  may  leak  out  that  would  ruin  you  and 
perhaps  bring  trouble  to  one  who  already  bears  a 
burden  too  heavy  for  young  shoulders.  We  know 
but  one  useful  fact :  Calli  and  Campo-Basso  are  at 
the  bottom  of  this  evil.  The  duke  suspects  that  the 
states  adjacent  to  Switzerland,  including  Styria,  will 


194  YOLANDA 

give  aid  to  the  Swiss  in  this  war  with  Burgundy,  and 
it  may  be  that  Duke  Charles  has  reasons  for  the  arrest 
of  our  friends.  He  may  have  learned  that  Sir  Max  is 
the  Count  of  Hapsburg.  I  hope  his  finger  is  not  in 
the  affair.  I  will  learn  what  I  can,  and  will  see  you 
to-night.  Till  then,  adieu." 

True  to  his  promise,  Hymbercourt  went  to  Castle- 
man's  that  evening,  but  he  had  learned  nothing  and 
had  thought  out  no  plan  of  action.  Two  days  passed 
and  there  was  another  consultation.  Still  the  mystery 
was  as  far  from  solution  as  on  the  day  of  its  birth. 
Yolanda  was  in  tribulation,  and  declared  that  she 
would  take  the  matter  into  her  own  hands.  Her 
uncle  dissuaded  her,  however,  and  she  reluctantly 
agreed  to  remain  silent  for  a  day  or  two  longer,  but 
she  vowed  that  she  would  give  tongue  to  her  thoughts 
and  arouse  all  Burgundy  in  behalf  of  Max  and  myself 
if  we  were  not  soon  discovered. 


CHAPTER   XI 

PERONNE    LA  PUCELLE 

THE  next  morning  Duke  Charles  went  down  to 
the  great  hall  of  the  castle  to  hear  reports  from 
his  officers  relating  to  the  war  that  he  was  about  to 
wage  against  the  Swiss.  When  the  duke  ascended 
the  three  steps  of  the  dais  to  the  ducal  throne,  he 
spoke  to  Campo-Basso  who  stood  upon  the  first  step 
at  the  duke's  right. 

"  What  news,  my  Lord  Count  ? "  asked  Charles. 
"I'm  told  there  is  a  messenger  from  Ghent." 

"  111  news,  my  lord,"  answered  Campo-Basso. 

"  Out  with  it ! "  cried  the  duke.  "  One  should 
always  swallow  a  bitter  draught  quickly." 

"  We  hear  the  Swiss  are  gathering  their  cantons  in 
great  numbers,"  said  Campo-Basso. 

"  Let  the  sheep  gather,"  said  Charles,  waving  his 
hands.  "  The  more  they  gather  to  the  fold,  the  more 
we'll  shear."  He  laughed  as  if  pleased  with  the  pros 
pect,  and  continued,  "  Proceed,  my  Lord  Count." 

"  The  Duke  of  Lorraine  is  again  trying  to  muster 
his  subjects  against  Your  Grace,  and  sends  a  polite 
message  asking  and  offering  terms  of  agreement. 
Shall  I  read  the  missive,  my  lord  ?  " 

195 


196  YOLANDA 

"  No ! "  cried  the  duke,  "  Curse  his  soft  words. 
There  is  no  bad  news  yet.  Proceed." 

"  It  is  rumored,  Your  Grace,"  continued  the  count, 
"  that  Frederick,  Duke  of  Styria,  is  preparing  to  aid 
the  Swiss  against  Your  Grace." 

"With  his  advice?"  asked  the  duke.  "The  old 
pauper  has  nothing  else  to  give,  unless  it  be  the  bones 
of  his  ancestors." 

"  It  is  said,  Your  Highness,  that  Wiirtemberg  will 
also  aid  the  Swiss,  and  that  Duke  Albert  will  try  to 
bring  about  a  coalition  of  the  German  states  for  the 
purpose  of  assisting  the  Swiss,  aiding  Lorraine,  and 
overthrowing  Burgundy.  This  purpose,  our  informant 
tells  us,  has  been  fostered  by  this  same  Duke  Fred 
erick  of  Styria." 

"  This  news,  I  suppose,  is  intended  for  our  ears 
by  the  Duke  of  Styria.  He  probably  wishes  us  to 
know  that  he  is  against  us,"  said  Charles.  "  He 
wanted  our  daughter  for  his  clown  of  a  son,  and  our 
contempt  for  his  claims  rankles  in  his  heart.  He 
cannot  inflame  Wiirtemberg,  and  Wiirtemberg  can 
not  influence  the  other  German  princes." 

The  duke  paused,  and  Campo-Basso  proceeded :  — 

"  The  citizens  of  Ghent,  my  lord,  petition  Your 
Grace  for  the  restoration  of  certain  communal  rights, 
and  beg  for  the  abolition  of  the  hearth  tax  and  the 
salt  levy.  They  also  desire  the  right  to  elect  their 
own  burgomaster  and  —  " 


PEBONNE   LA  PUCELLE  197 

« Give  me  the  petition,"  demanded  the  duke. 
Campo-Basso  handed  the  parchment  to  Charles,  and 
he  tore  it  to  shreds. 

"  Send  these  to  the  dogs  of  Ghent,  and  tell  them 
that  for  every  scrap  of  parchment  I'll  take  a  score 
of  heads  when  I  return  from  Switzerland." 

"  We  hear  also,  my  lord,"  said  the  Italian,  "  that 
King  Edward  of  England  is  marshalling  an  army, 
presumably  for  the  invasion  of  France  and,  because  of 
the  close  union  that  is  soon  to  be  between  King  Louis 
and  Burgundy,  I  have  thought  proper  to  lay  the  news 
before  Your  Grace." 

"  Edward  wants  more  of  King  Louis'  gold," 
answered  Charles.  "  We'll  let  him  get  it.  We  care 
not  how  much  he  has  from  this  crafty  miser  of  the 
Seine.  Louis  will  buy  the  English  ministers,  and  the 
army  will  suddenly  vanish.  When  King  Edward 
grows  scarce  of  gold,  he  musters  an  army,  or  pretends 
to  do  so,  and  Louis  fills  the  English  coffers.  The 
French  king  would  buy  an  apostle,  or  the  devil,  and 
would  sell  his  soul  to  either  to  serve  a  purpose.  Have 
you  more  in  your  budget,  Sir  Count  ?  " 

"  I  have  delivered  all,  I  believe,  my  lord,"  answered 
Campo-Basso. 

"  It  might  have  been  worse,"  said  the  duke,  rising 
to  quit  his  throne. 

"  One  moment,  my  lord  !  There  is  another  matter 
to  which  I  wish  to  call  Your  Grace's  attention  before 


198  YOLANDA 

you  rise,"  said  the  count.  "  I  have  for  your  signature 
the  warrants  for  the  execution  of  the  Swiss  spies,  who, 
Your  Highness  may  remember,  were  entrapped  and 
arrested  by  the  watchfulness  of  Your  Grace's  faithful 
servant,  the  noble  Count  Calli." 

"  Give  me  the  warrant,"  said  the  duke,  "  and  let 
the  execution  take  place  at  once." 

Hymbercourt  had  been  standing  in  the  back  part 
of  the  room,  paying  little  attention  to  the  proceed 
ings,  but  the  mention  of  Calli's  name  in  connection 
with  the  Swiss  spies  quickly  roused  him,  and  he  hur 
riedly  elbowed  his  way  to  the  ducal  throne.  A  page 
was  handing  Charles  a  quill  and  an  ink-well  when 
Hymbercourt  spoke :  — 

"  My  Lord  Duke,  I  beg  you  not  to  sign  the  warrant 
until  I  have  asked  a  few  questions  of  my  Lord 
Campo-Basso  concerning  these  alleged  spies." 

"  Why  do  you  say  <  alleged  spies,'  my  Lord 
d' Hymbercourt  ?  "  asked  the  duke.  "  Do  you  know 
anything  of  them  ?  Are  they  friends  of  yours  ?  " 

"  If  they  are  friends  of  mine,  Your  Grace  may  be 
sure  they  are  not  spies,"  answered  Hymbercourt.  "  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  know  these  men,  but  I  fear  a  mis 
take  has  been  made." 

A  soft  cry,  a  mere  exclamation,  was  heard  behind 
the  chancel  in  the  ladies'  gallery,  which  was  above 
the  throne,  a  little  to  the  right.  But  it  caused  no 
comment  other  than  a  momentary  turning  of  heads 
in  that  direction. 


PEKONNE  LA  PUCELLE  199 

"  On  what  ground  do  you  base  your  suspicion,  my 
lord  ?  "  asked  Charles. 

"  Little  ground,  Your  Grace,"  answered  Hymber- 
court.  "  I  may  be  entirely  wrong ;  but  I  beg  the 
privilege  of  asking  the  noble  Count  Calli  two  or  three 
questions  before  Your  Grace  signs  the  death  warrant. 
We  may  avert  a  grave  mistake  and  prevent  a  horrible 
crime." 

"  It  is  a  waste  of  valuable  time,"  answered  Charles, 
"  but  if  you  will  be  brief,  you  may  proceed.  Count 
Calli,  come  into  presence." 

Calli  stepped  forward  and  saluted  the  duke  on 
bended  knee. 

"  Your  questions,  Hymbercourt,  and  quickly,"  said 
Charles,  testily.  "  We  are  in  haste.  Time  between 
the  arrest  and  the  hanging  of  a  spy  is  wasted." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  lord,"  said  Hymbercourt.  He 
then  turned  to  Calli,  and  asked,  "  When  were  these 
men  arrested  ?  " 

«  More  than  a  fortnight  ago,"  answered  Calli. 

"  How  came  you  to  discover  they  were  spies  ?  " 
asked  Hymbercourt. 

"  I  watched  them,  and  their  actions  were  sus 
picious,"  replied  the  Italian. 

"  In  what  respect  were  they  suspicious  ?  " 

"  They  went  abroad  only  at  night,  and  one  of  them 
was  seen  near  the  castle  several  evenings  after  dark," 
responded  Calli. 


200  YOLANDA 

"  Is  that  your  only  evidence  against  them  ? "  de 
manded  Hymbercourt. 

"  It  is  surely  enough,"  replied  Calli,  "  but  if  more 
is  wanted,  they  were  overheard  to  avow  their  guilt." 

«  What  were  they  heard  to  say  and  where  did  they 
say  it  ?  "  asked  Hymbercourt. 

"  I  lay  concealed,  with  six  men-at-arms,  near  the 
river  in  the  garden  of  The  Mitre  Inn,  where  the  spies 
had  been  bathing.  We  heard  them  speak  many 
words  of  treason  against  our  gracious  Lord  Duke,  but 
I  did  not  move  in  their  arrest  until  the  younger  man 
said  to  his  companion :  <  I  will  to-morrow  gain  entrance 
to  the  castle  as  a  pedler  and  will  stab  this  Duke 
Charles  to  death.  You  remain  near  the  Postern 
with  the  horses,  and  I  will  try  to  escape  to  you.  If 
the  gate  should  be  closed,  ride  away  without  me  and 
carry  the  news  to  the  cantons.  I  would  gladly  give 
my  life  to  save  the  fatherland.' " 

"  Hang  them,"  cried  the  duke.  "  We  are  wasting 
time." 

"  I  pray  your  patience,  my  Lord  Duke,"  said  Hym 
bercourt,  holding  up  his  hand  protestingly.  "  I  know 
these  men  whom  Count  Calli  has  falsely  accused. 
They  are  not  spies ;  they  are  not  Swiss ;  neither  are 
they  enemies  of  Burgundy.  Were  they  so,  I,  my 
lord,  would  demand  their  death  were  they  a  thousand 
fold  my  friends.  I  stake  my  life  upon  their  honesty. 
I  offer  my  person  and  my  estates  as  hostages  for 


PEKONNE   LA  PUCELLE  201 

them,  and  make  myself  their  champion.  Count  Calli 
lies." 

Hymbercourt's  words  caused  a  great  commotion 
in  the  hall.  Swords  and  daggers  sprang  from  the 
scabbards  of  the  Italians,  and  cries  of  indignation 
were  uttered  by  the  mercenaries,  who  saw  their 
crime  exposed,  and  by  the  Burgundians,  who  hated 
the  Italians  and  their  dastardly  methods.  Charles 
commanded  silence,  and  Campo-Basso  received  per 
mission  to  speak. 

"  Since  when  did  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt  turn 
traitor  ?  "  said  he.  «  His  fealty  has  always  been  as 
loud-mouthed  as  the  baying  of  a  wolf." 

"  I  am  a  Burgundiari,  my  lord,"  said  Hymbercourt, 
ignoring  the  Italian  and  addressing  Charles.  "  I  re 
ceive  no  pay  for  my  fealty.  I  am  not  a  foreign  mer 
cenary,  and  I  need  not  defend  my  loyalty  to  one  who 
knows  me  as  he  knows  his  own  heart." 

"My  Lord  d' Hymbercourt's  honor  needs  no  de 
fence,"  said  Charles.  "  I  trust  his  honesty  and 
loyalty  as  I  trust  myself.  He  may  be  mistaken ;  he 
may  be  right.  Bring  in  these  spies." 

"  Surely  Your  Grace  will  not  contaminate  your 
presence  with  these  wretches,"  pleaded  Campo-Basso. 
"  Consider  the  danger  to  yourself,  my  dear  lord. 
They  are  desperate  men,  who  would  gladly  give  their 
lives  to  take  yours  and  save  their  country.  I  beg 
you  out  of  the  love  I  bear  Your  Grace,  pause  before 


202  YOLANDA 

you  bring    these   traitorous   spies   into   your   sacred 
presence." 

"Bring  them  before  me!"  cried  the  duke.  "We 
will  determine  this  matter  for  ourselves.  We  have 
a  score  of  brave,  well-paid  Italians  who  may  be  able 
to  protect  our  person  from  the  onslaught  of  two 
manacled  men." 

On  this  same  morning  the  guard  had  been  to  my 
cell  with  bread  and  water,  and  had  departed.  I  did 
not  know,  of  course,  whether  it  was  morning,  noon,  or 
night,  but  I  had  learned  to  measure  with  some  degree 
of  accuracy  the  lapse  of  time  between  the  visits  of 
the  guard,  and  was  surprised  to  hear  the  rusty  lock 
turn  long  before  the  time  for  his  reappearance. 
When  the  man  entered  my  cell,  bearing  his  lantern, 
he  said :  — 

"  Come  with  me." 

The  words  were  both  welcome  and  terrible.  I 
could  not  know  their  meaning  —  whether  it  was 
liberty  or  death.  I  stepped  from  the  cell  and,  while 
I  waited  for  the  guard  to  relock  the  door,  I  saw  the 
light  of  a  lantern  at  the  other  end  of  a  passageway. 
Two  men  with  Max  between  them  came  out  of  the 
darkness  and  stopped  in  front  of  me.  Our  wrists 
were  manacled  behind  us,  and  we  could  not  touch 
hands.  I  could  have  wept  for  joy  and  grief  at  seeing 
Max. 


PERONNE  LA  PUCELLE  203 

"  Forgive  me,  Max,  for  bringing  you  to  this,"  I 
cried. 

«  Forgive  me,  Karl.  It  is  I  who  have  brought  you 
to  these  straits,"  said  Max.  "  Which  is  it  to  be, 
think  you,  Karl,  liberty  or  death  ?  " 

"  God  only  knows,"  I  answered. 

"  For  your  sake,  Karl,  I  hope  He  cares  more  than 
I.  I  would  prefer  death  to  the  black  cell  I  have  just 
left." 

We  went  through  many  dark  passageways  and 
winding  stairs  to  the  audience  hall. 

When  we  entered  the  hall,  the  courtiers  fell  back, 
leaving  an  aisle  from  the  great  double  doors  to  the 
ducal  throne.  When  we  approached  the  duke,  I  bent 
my  knee,  but  Max  simply  bowed. 

"  Kneel !  "  cried  Campo-Basso,  addressing  Max. 

"  If  my  Lord  of  Burgundy  demands  that  I  kneel,  I 
will  do  so,  but  it  is  more  meet  that  he  should  kneel 
to  me  for  the  outrage  that  has  been  put  upon  me 
at  his  court,"  said  Max,  gazing  unfalteringly  into  the 
duke's  face. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  the  duke,  speaking  to 
me. 

"  I  am  Sir  Karl  de  Pitti,"  I  replied.  "  Your  Grace 
may  know  my  family ;  we  are  of  Italy.  It  was  once 
my  good  fortune  to  serve  under  your  father  and  your 
self.  My  young  friend  is  known  as  Sir  Maximilian 
du  Guelph." 


204  YOLANDA 

"  He  is  known  as  Guelph,  but  who  is  he  ? " 
demanded  Charles. 

"  That  question  I  may  not  answer,  my  lord,"  said 
I,  speaking  in  the  Walloon  tongue. 

"  You  shall  answer  or  die,"  returned  the  duke, 
angrily. 

"  I  hope  my  Lord  of  Burgundy  will  not  be  so  harsh 
with  us,"  interrupted  Max,  lifting  his  head  and 
speaking  boldly.  "  We  have  committed  no  crime, 
and  do  not  know  why  we  have  been  arrested.  We 
beg  that  we  may  be  told  the  charge  against  us,  and 
we  would  also  know  who  makes  the  charge." 

"  Count  Calli,"  said  the  duke,  beckoning  that 
worthy  knight,  "  come  forward  and  speak." 

Calli  came  forward,  knelt  to  the  duke,  and  said  : 

"  I,  my  lord,  charge  these  unknown  men  as  being 
Swiss  spies  and  assassins,  who  seek  to  murder  Your 
Grace  and  to  betray  Burgundy." 

"You  lie,  you  dog,"  cried  Max,  looking  like  an 
angry  young  god.  "  You  lie  in  your  teeth  and  in  your 
heart.  My  Lord  of  Burgundy,  I  demand  the  combat 
against  this  man  who  seeks  my  life  by  treachery  and 
falsehood.  I  waive  my  rank  for  the  sweet  privilege 
of  killing  this  liar." 

"My  Lord  Duke,"  I  exclaimed,  interrupting  Max, 
"  if  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt  is  in  presence,  I  beg  that 
I  may  have  speech  with  him." 

Hymbercourt  stepped  to  my  side,  and  the  duke 
signified  permission  to  speak. 


PERONNE   LA  PUCELLE  205 

"My  Lord  d'Hymbercourt,"  said  I,  turning  to  my 
friend,  "  I  beg  you  to  tell  His  Grace  that  we  are  not 
spies.  I  may  not,  for  reasons  well  known  to  you, 
give  you  permission  to  inform  His  Grace  who  my 
young  companion  is,  and  I  hope  my  Lord  of  Bur 
gundy  will  be  satisfied  with  your  assurance  that  we 
are  honest  knights  who  wish  only  good  to  this  land 
and  its  puissant  ruler." 

"  Indeed,  my  Lord  Duke,  I  was  right,"  answered 
Hymbercourt.  "  Again  I  offer  my  person  and  my 
estates  as  hostages  for  these  men.  They  are  not  spies. 
They  are  not  of  Switzerland,  nor  are  they  friends  to 
the  Swiss ;  neither  are  they  enemies  of  Burgundy. 
I  doubt  not  they  will  gladly  join  Your  Lordship  in  this 
war  against  the  cantons.  These  knights  have  been 
arrested  to  gratify  revenge  for  personal  injury 
received  and  deserved  by  this  traitorous  Count  Calli." 

"  It  is  false,"  cried  Campo-Basso. 

"  It  is  true  —  pitifully  true,  my  lord,"  returned 
Hymbercourt.  "  This  young  knight  was  at  the  moat 
bridge  near  Castleman's  House  under  the  Wall  talking 
with  a  burgher  maid,  Fraulein  Castleman.  Count 
Calli  stole  upon  them  without  warning  and  insulted 
the  maiden.  My  young  friend  knocked  down  the 
ruffian,  and,  in  the  conflict  that  ensued,  broke  Calli's 
arm.  Your  Grace  may  have  seen  him  carrying  it  in  a 
sling  until  within  the  last  forty-eight  hours. 

"  For  this  deserved  chastisement  Count  Calli  seeks 


206  YOLANDA 

the  young  man's  life  by  bearing  false  witness  against 
him;  and  with  it  that  of  my  old  friend,  Sir  Karl  de 
Pitti.  It  is  Burgundy's  shame,  my  lord,  that  these 
treacherous  mercenaries  should  be  allowed  to  murder 
strangers  and  to  outrage  Your  Grace's  loyal  subjects 
in  the  name  of  Your  Lordship's  justice.  Sir  Maxi 
milian  du  Guelph  has  demanded  the  combat  against 
this  Count  Calli.  Sir  Maximilian  is  a  spurred  and 
belted  knight,  and  under  the  laws  of  chivalry  even 
Your  Grace  may  not  gainsay  him." 

"  My  lord,  I  do  not  fight  assassins  and  spies,"  said 
Calli,  addressing  the  duke. 

"  I  do,"  cried  Max,  "  when  they  put  injuries  upon 
me  as  this  false  coward  has  done.  I  will  prove  upon 
his  body,  my  Lord  Duke,  who  is  the  assassin  and  the 
spy.  My  Lord  d'Hymbercourt  will  vouch  that  my 
rank  entitles  me  to  fight  in  knightly  combat  with 
any  man  in  this  presence.  My  wrists  are  manacled, 
my  lord,  and  I  have  no  gage  to  throw  before  this 
false  knight;  but,  my  Lord  of  Burgundy,  I  again  de 
mand  the  combat.  One  brave  as  Your  Grace  is  must 
also  be  just.  We  shall  leave  Count  Calli  no  excuse 
to  avoid  this  combat,  even  if  I  must  tell  Your  Grace 
my  true  rank  and  station." 

"This  knight,"  said  Hymbercourt,  addressing 
Charles  and  extending  his  hand  toward  Max,  "is 
of  birth  entitling  him  to  meet  in  the  lists  any  knight 
in  Burgundy,  and  I  will  gladly  stand  his  sponsor." 


PEEONKE  LA  PUCELLE  207 

"  My  Lord  d'Hymbercourt's  sponsorship  proves  any 
man,"  said  the  duke,  who  well  knew  that  Campo- 
Basso  and  his  friends  would  commit  any  crime  to 
avenge  an  injury,  fancied  or  real. 

"My  Lord  Duke,  I  pray  your  patience,"  said 
Campo-Basso,  obsequiously.  "No  man  may  impugn 
my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt's  honesty,  but  may  he  not 
be  mistaken?  In  the  face  of  the  evidence  against 
this  man,  may  he  not  be  mistaken  ?  The  six  men 
who  were  with  Count  Calli  will  testify  to  the  treason 
able  words  spoken  by  this  young  spy." 

"Does  any  other  man  in  presence  know  these 
men  ?  "  asked  the  duke.  No  one  responded. 

After  a  little  time  Hymbercourt  broke  silence. 

"  I  am  grieved  and  deeply  hurt,  my  lord,  that  you 
should  want  other  evidence  than  mine  against  the 
witnesses  who  make  this  charge.  I  am  a  Burgundian. 
These  witnesses  are  Italians  who  love  Your  Grace  for 
the  sake  of  the  gold  they  get.  I  had  hoped  that  my 
poor  services  had  earned  for  me  the  right  to  be  be 
lieved,  but  if  I  may  have  a  little  time,  I  will  pro 
cure  another  man  whose  word  shall  be  to  you  as  the 
word  of  your  father." 

"  Bring  him  into  our  presence,"  answered  the  duke. 
"We  will  see  him  to-morrow  at  this  hour." 

"May  I  not  crave  Your  Grace's  indulgence  for  a 
half-hour  ?  "  pleaded  Hymbercourt.  "  I  will  have  this 
man  here  within  that  time." 


208  YOLANDA 

"  Not  another  minute,"  replied  the  duke.  "  Heralds, 
cry  the  rising." 

"  Oyez  !  Oyez !  Oyez  !  His  Grace,  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  is  about  to  rise.  His  Grace  has  risen," 
cried  the  herald. 

The  duke  left  the  hall  by  a  small  door  near  the 
dais. 

Hymbercourt  was  standing  beside  us  when  the 
captain  of  the  guard  approached  to  lead  us  back  to 
our  cells. 

"May  we  not  have  comfortable  quarters,  and 
may  we  not  be  placed  in  one  cell  ?  "  I  asked,  appeal 
ing  to  Hymbercourt.  "I  have  been  confined  in  a 
reeking,  rayless  dungeon  unfit  for  swine,  and  doubt 
less  Sir  Max  has  been  similarly  outraged." 

Hymbercourt  put  his  hand  into  his  pouch  and 
drew  forth  two  gold  pieces.  These  he  stealthily 
placed  in  the  captain's  hand,  and  that  worthy  offi 
cial  said :  — 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  oblige,  my  lord." 

Hymbercourt  left  us,  and  Campo-Basso,  beckoning 
the  captain  to  one  side,  spoke  to  him  in  low  tones. 
The  captain,  I  was  glad  to  see,  was  a  Burgundian. 

After  we  left  the  hall  we  were  taken  to  our  old 
quarters.  The  captain  followed  me  into  the  cell, 
leaving  his  men  in  the  passageway. 

"  My  Lord  Count  ordered  me  to  bring  you  here," 
he  said ;  "  but  I  will,  if  I  can,  soon  return  with  other 


PEBONNE  LA  PUCELLE  209 

men  who  are  not  Italians  and  will  remove  you  to  a 
place  of  safety." 

"  Am  I  not  safe  here  ?  Is  my  friend  in  danger  ?  " 
I  asked. 

The  man  smiled  as  though  amused  at  my  sim 
plicity  :  — 

"  If  you  remain  here  to-night,  there  will  be  no  need 
to  hang  you  in  the  morning.  Our  Italian  friends 
have  methods  of  their  own  that  are  simple  and  sure. 
But  I  will  try  to  find  a  way  to  remove  you  before  — 
before  the  Italians  have  time  to  do  their  work.  I 
will  see  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt,  and  if  the  duke 
has  not  gone  a-hunting,  we  will  induce  His  Grace 
to  order  your  removal  to  a  place  of  safety." 

"  But  if  the  duke  is  gone,  cannot  you  get  the  order 
when  he  returns  ?  "  I  asked. 

"That  will  be  too  late,  I  fear,"  he  answered, 
laughing,  and  with  these  comforting  remarks  he 
left  me. 

After  two  or  three  hours  —  the  time  seemed  days 
—  I  heard  a  key  enter  the  lock  of  my  cell  door. 
If  the  hand  inserting  the  key  was  that  of  an  Italian, 
I  might  look  for  death.  To  my  great  joy  the  man 
was  my  Burgundian  captain. 

"  The  duke  had  gone  a-hunting,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
could  not  find  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt ;  but  Her 
Highness,  the  princess,  asked  me  to  remove  you, 
and  I  am  willing  to  risk  my  neck  for  her  sweet  sake. 


210  YOLANDA 

I  am  to  place  you  in  one  of  the  tower  rooms,  out  of 
the  reach  of  our  Italian  cutthroats." 

"  Will  my  young  friend  be  with  me  ? "  I  asked 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,"  responded  the  captain. 

Again  I  met  Max  with  a  man-at-arms  in  the 
passageway  outside  my  cell  door,  and  we  all  went 
up  the  steps  together.  We  were  hurried  through 
dark  passages  to  a  spiral  stairway,  which  we  climbed 
till  my  knees  ached.  But  we  were  going  up  instead 
of  down,  and  I  was  overjoyed  to  have  the  aching 
leave  my  heart  for  my  knees. 

The  room  in  which  the  Burgundian  left  us  was 
large  and  clean.  There  were  two  beds  of  sweet 
straw  upon  the  floor,  and  to  my  unspeakable  joy 
there  was  -a  bar  on  the  door  whereby  it  could  be 
locked  from  within.  There  were  also  two  tubs  of 
water  for  a  bath.  On  a  rude  bench  was  a  com 
plete  change  of  clothing  which  had  been  brought  by 
some  kind  hand  from  the  inn.  On  an  oak  table 
were  two  bottles  of  wine,  a  bowl  of  honey,  a  cellar 
of  pepper,  white  bread,  cold  meat,  and  pastry.  A 
soul  reaching  heaven  out  of  purgatory  must  feel 
as  we  felt  then.  We  were  too  excited  to  eat,  so 
we  bathed,  dressed,  and  lay  down  on  the  straw  beds. 

Before  leaving  us  our  captain  had  said  :  — 

"  Do  not  unbolt  your  door  except  to  the  password 
« Burgundy.' " 


PERONNE  LA  PUCELLE  211 

We  slept  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  When  we 
wakened  the  sun  was  well  down  in  the  west,  and 
we  could  see  only  its  reflected  glare  in  the  eastern 
sky.  There  was  but  one  opening  in  the  room 
through  which  the  light  could  enter  —  a  narrow 
window,  less  than  a  foot  wide.  The  light  in  the 
room  was  dim  even  at  noon,  but  the  long  darkness 
had  so  affected  our  eyes  that  the  light  from  the 
window  was  sufficient  to  illumine  the  apartment 
and  to  make  all  objects  plainly  discernible.  There 
was  little  to  be  seen.  The  arched  roof  was  of 
solid  masonry  ;  the  walls  were  without  a  break  save 
the  narrow  window  and  the  door.  Through  the 
window  we  could  see  only  a  patch  of  sky  in  the  east, 
reddened  by  the  reflection  of  the  sinking  sun  ;  but 
the  sight  was  so  beautiful  that  Max  and  I  were  loath 
to  leave  it  even  for  supper. 

"  We  must  eat  before  the  light  dies,"  said  Max, 
whose  young  stomach  was  more  imperious  than 
mine,  "  or  we  shall  have  to  eat  in  the  dark.  I  have 
had  more  than  enough  of  that." 

"  Fall  to,"  I  said,  as  we  drew  the  stools  to  the 
table.  With  the  first  mouthful  of  clean,  delicious 
food  my  appetite  returned,  and  I  ate  ravenously. 
Had  the  repast  been  larger  I  believe  we  should  have 
killed  ourselves.  Fortunately  it  was  consumed  be 
fore  we  were  exhausted,  and  we  came  off  alive 
and  victorious.  After  supper  darkness  fell,  and  Max 


212  YOLAKDA 

sat  beside  me  on  the  bench.  He  was  very  happy, 
for  he  felt  that  our  troubles  would  end  with  the 
night.  I  put  my  arm  over  his  neck  and  begged 
him  to  forgive  me  for  bringing  this  evil  upon  him. 

"  You  shall  not  blame  yourself,  Karl,"  he  protested. 
"  There  is  no  fault  in  you.  No  one  is  to  blame 
save  myself ;  I  should  not  have  gone  to  the  bridge. 
I  wonder  what  poor  Yolanda  is  doing.  Perhaps 
she  is  suffering  in  fear  and  is  ignorant  of  our 
misfortune.  Perhaps  she  thinks  I  have  broken  my 
promise  and  left  Peronne.  I  can  see  her  stamp  her 
little  foot,  and  I  see  her  great  eyes  flashing  in 
anger.  Each  new  humor  in  her  seems  more  beau 
tiful  than  the  last,  Karl.  Knowing  her,  I  seem  to 
have  known  all  mankind  —  at  least,  all  womankind. 
She  has  wakened  me  to  life.  Her  touch  has  un 
sealed  my  eyes,  and  the  pain  that  I  take  from  my 
love  for  her  is  like  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  I  be 
lieve  that  a  man  comes  to  his  full  strength,  mental 
and  moral,  only  through  the  elixir  of  pain." 

"  We  surely  have  had  our  share  of  late,"  I  said 
dolefully. 

"  All  will  soon  be  well  with  us,  Karl ;  do  not  fear. 
We  shall  be  free  to-morrow,  and  I  will  kill  this  Calli. 
Then  I'll  go  back  to  Styria  a  better,  wiser,  stronger 
man  than  I  could  ever  have  been  had  I  remained 
at  home.  This  last  terrible  experience  has  been  the 
keystone  of  my  regeneration.  It  has  taught  me  to  be 


PEKONNE   LA  PUCELLE  213 

merciful  even  to  the  guilty,  and  gentle  with  the  ac 
cused.  No  man  shall  ever  suffer  at  my  command  until 
he  has  been  proved  guilty.  Doubtless  thousands  of 
innocent  men  as  free  from  crime  and  evil  intent  as 
we,  are  wasting  their  lives  away  in  dungeons  as  loath 
some  as  those  that  imprisoned  us." 

"  Calli  will  not  fight  you,"  I  said. 

"  If  he  refuses,  I  will  kill  him  at  the  steps  of  the 
throne  of  Burgundy,  let  the  result  be  what  it  may. 
God  will  protect  me  in  my  just  vengeance.  I  will 
then  go  home ;  and  I'll  not  return  to  Burgundy  till  I 
do  so  at  the  head  of  an  army,  to  compel  Duke  Charles 
to  behead  Campo-Basso." 

"  What  will  you  do  about  Yolanda,  Max  ? "  I 
asked. 

The  interference  of  the  princess  in  our  behalf  had 
thrown  more  light  on  my  important  riddle,  and 
once  again  I  was  convinced  that  she  was  Yolanda. 

"  I'll  keep  her  in  my  heart  till  I  die,  Karl,"  he 
responded,  "and  I  pray  God  to  give  her  a  happier 
life  than  mine  can  be.  That  is  all  I  can  do." 

"  Will  you  see  her  before  you  go  ?  "  I  asked,  fully 
intending  that  there  should  be  no  doubt  on  the 
question. 

"  Yes,  and  then  —  "  He  paused ;  and,  after  a  little 
time,  I  asked  :  — 

«  And  what  then,  Max  ?  " 

"  God  only  knows  what,  Karl.  I'm  sure  I  don't," 
he  answered. 


214  YOLANDA 

We  talked  till  late  into  the  night,  lay  down  on  our 
soft,  clean  beds  of  straw,  and  were  soon  asleep. 

I  did  not  know  how  long  I  had  been  sleeping 
when  I  was  wakened  by  a  voice  that  seemed  to 
fill  the  room,  low,  soft,  and  musical  as  the  tones 
of  an  JEolian  harp.  I  groped  my  way  noiselessly  in 
the  dark  to  Max's  bed  and  aroused  him.  Placing  my 
hand  over  his  mouth  to  insure  silence,  I  whispered: — 

"  Listen ! " 

He  rested  on  his  elbow,  and  we  waited.  After 
a  few  seconds  the  voice  again  resounded  through 
the  room,  soft  as  a  murmured  ave,  distinct  as  the 
notes  of  a  bird.  Max  clutched  my  hand.  Soon 
the  voice  came  again,  and  we  heard  the  words :  — 

"  Little  Max,  do  you  hear  ?     Answer  softly." 

"  I  hear,"  responded  Max. 

There  was  an  uncanny  note  in  the  music  of  the 
voice.  It  seemed  almost  celestial.  We  could  not  tell 
whence  it  came.  Every  stone  in  the  walls  and  ceil 
ing,  every  slab  in  the  floor  seemed  resonant  with 
silvery  tones.  After  Max  had  answered  there  was 
a  pause  lasting  two  or  three  minutes,  and  the  voice 
spoke  again :  — 

"  I  love  you,  Little  Max.  I  tell  you  because  I 
wish  to  comfort  you.  Do  not  fear.  You  shall  be 
free  to-morrow.  Do  not  answer.  Adieu." 

"  Yolanda  !  Yolanda  !  "  cried  Max,  pleadingly ;  but 
he  received  no  answer.  He  put  his  hand  on  my 
shoulder  and  said  :  — 


PERONNE  LA  PUCELLE  215 

"  It  was  Yolanda,  Karl  —  ah,  God  must  hate  a 
child  that  He  brings  into  the  world  a  prince." 

For  the  rest  of  the  night  we  did  not  sleep,  neither 
did  we  speak.  The  morrow  was  to  be  a  day  of 
frightful  import  to  us,  and  we  awaited  it  in  great 
anxiety. 

When  the  morning  broke  and  the  sun  shot  his 
rays  through  the  narrow  window,  we  carefully  ex 
amined  the  floor  and  walls  of  our  room,  but  we  found 
no  opening  through  which  the  voice  could  have 
penetrated.  In  the  side  of  the  room  formed  by  the 
wall  of  the  tower,  the  mortar  had  fallen  from  be 
tween  two  stones,  leaving  one  of  them  somewhat 
loose,  but  the  castle  wall  at  that  point  was  fully 
sixteen  feet  thick,  and  it  was  impossible  that  the 
voice  should  have  come  through  the  layers  of  stone. 

From  my  first  acquaintance  with  Yolanda  there 
had  seemed  to  be  a  supernatural  element  in  her 
nature,  an  elfin  quality  in  her  face  and  manner  that 
could  not  be  described.  Max  had  often  told  me  that 
she  impressed  him  in  like  manner.  The  voice  in  our 
stone-girt  chamber,  coming  as  it  did  from  nowhere, 
and  resounding  as  it  did  everywhere,  intensified  that 
feeling  till  it  was  almost  a  conviction,  though  I  am 
slow  to  accept  supernatural  explanations  —  a  natural 
one  usually  exists.  Of  course,  there  are  rare  in- 
stances  of  supernatural  power  vested  in  men  and 
women,  and  Yolanda's  great,  burning  eyes  caused  me 


216  YOLANDA 

at  times,  almost  to  believe  that  she  was  favored 
with  it. 

The  voice  that  we  had  heard  was  unquestionably 
Yolanda's,  but  by  what  strange  power  it  was  enabled 
to  penetrate  our  rock-ribbed  prison  and  give  tongues 
to  the  cold  stones  I  could  not  guess,  though  I  could 
not  stop  trying.  Here  was  another  riddle  set  by  this 
marvellous  girl  for  my  solving.  This  riddle,  however, 
helped  to  solve  the  first,  and  confirmed  my  belief  that 
Yolarida  was  Mary  of  Burgundy. 

After  breakfast  Max  and  I  were  taken  to  the  great 
hall,  where  we  found  Castleman  standing  before  the 
ducal  throne,  speaking  to  Charles.  The  burgher  turned 
toward  us,  and  as  we  approached  I  heard  him  say  :  — 

"  My  lord,  these  men  are  not  spies." 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  demanded  the  duke. 

Castleman  gave  our  names  and  told  the  story  of 
our  meeting  at  Basel,  after  we  had  escorted  Merchant 
Franz  from  Cannstadt.  Then  he  narrated  Max's 
adventure  at  the  moat  bridge,  closing  with  :  — 

"Count  Calli  grossly  insulted  Fraulein  Castleman, 
for  which  Sir  Max  chastised  him ;  and  no  doubt,  my 
lord,  this  arrest  has  been  made  for  revenge." 

"  Has  the  younger  man  name  or  title  other  than 
you  have  given  ?  "  asked  Charles. 

The  burgher  hesitated  before  he  answered :  — 

"  He  has,  my  lord,  though  I  may  not  disclose  it 
to  Your  Grace  without  his  permission,  unless  you 


PEROKtfE  LA  PUCELLE  217 

order  me  so  to  do  upon  my  fealty.  That  I  humbly 
beg  Your  Grace  not  to  do." 

"  I  beg  Your  Grace  not  to  ask  me  to  disclose  my 
identity  at  this  time,"  said  Max.  "  I  am  willing, 
should  you  insist  upon  knowing  who  I  am,  to  tell 
it  privately  in  Your  Grace's  ear ;  but  I  am  travelling 
incognito  with  my  friend,  Sir  Karl  de  Pitti,  and  I 
beg  that  I  may  remain  so.  My  estate  is  neither  very 
great  nor  very  small,  but  what  it  is  I  desire  for  many 
reasons  not  to  divulge.  These  reasons  in  no  way 
touch  Burgundy,  and  I  am  sure  Your  Grace  will  not 
wish  to  intrude  upon  them.  Within  a  month,  per 
haps  within  a  few  days,  I  will  enlighten  you.  If 
you  will  permit  me  to  remain  in  Peronne,  I  will 
communicate  my  reasons  to  you  personally ;  if  I 
leave,  I  will  write  to  Your  Grace.  I  give  my  parole 
that  I  will,  within  a  month,  surrender  myself  to  Your 
Lordship,  if  you  are  not  satisfied,  upon  hearing  my 
explanations,  that  my  word  is  that  of  an  honorable 
knight,  and  my  station  one  worthy  of  Your  Grace's 
respect.  I  hope  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt  and  my 
good  friend  Castleman  will  stand  as  hostages  for  me 
in  making  this  pledge." 

Both  men  eagerly  offered  their  persons  and  their 
estates  as  hostages,  and  the  duke,  turning  to  the 
captain  of  the  guard,  said  :  — 

"  Remove  the  manacles  from  these  knights." 

The  chains  were  removed,  and  the  duke,  coming 


218  YOLANDA 

down  to  the  last  step  of  the  dais,  looked  into  Max's 
face. 

Max  calmly  returned  the  fierce  gaze  without  so 
mxich  as  the  faltering  of  an  eyelid. 

«  All  step  back  save  this  young  man,"  ordered  the 
duke,  extending  his  open  palm  toward  the  courtiers. 

We  all  fell  away,  but  the  duke  said :  — 

"  Farther  back,  farther  back,  I  say  !  Don't  crowd 
in  like  a  pack  of  yokels  at  a  street  fight ! " 

Charles  was  acting  under  great  excitement.  I  was 
not  sure  that  it  was  not  anger  since  his  mien  looked 
much  like  it.  I  did  not  know  what  was  going  to 
happen,  and  was  in  an  agony  of  suspense.  Any 
thing  was  possible  with  this  brutish  duke  when  his 
brain  was  crazed  with  passion. 

All  who  had  been  near  the  ducal  throne  moved 
back,  till  no  one  was  within  ten  yards  of  Charles  save 
Max.  The  duke  wore  a  dagger  and  a  shirt  of  mail ; 
Max  wore  neither  arms  nor  armor.  After  the  courtiers 
stepped  back  from  the  throne  a  deep,  expectant  hush 
fell  upon  the  room.  No  one  could  guess  the  inten 
tions  of  this  fierce,  cruel  duke,  and  I  was  terribly 
apprehensive  for  Max's  safety.  Had  Max  been  armed, 
I  should  have  had  no  fear  for  him  at  the  hands  of  the 
duke  or  any  other  man. 

Charles  stepped  from  the  dais  to  the  floor  beside 
Max,  still  gazing  fixedly  into  his  face.  The  men 
were  within  four  feet  of  each  other.  The  silence 


PERONNE   LA  PUCELLE  219 

in  the  room  was  broken  only  by  the  heavy  breathing 
of  excited  courtiers.  The  duke's  voice  sounded  loud 
and  harsh  when  he  spoke  to  Max,  and  his  breath 
came  in  hoarse  gusts :  — 

"  You  are  accused,  Sir  Knight,  by  credible  wit 
nesses  of  intent  to  murder  me.  For  such  a  crime  it 
is  my  privilege  to  kill  you  here  and  now  with  my 
own  hand.  What  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

Charles  paused  for  a  reply,  drawing  his  dagger 
from  its  sheath.  When  Max  saw  the  naked  weapon, 
I  noticed  that  he  gave  a  start,  though  it  was  almost 
imperceptible.  He  at  once  recovered  himself,  and 
straightening  to  his  full  height,  stepped  to  within 
two  feet  of  the  duke. 

«  If  I  plotted  or  intended  to  kill  you,  my  lord," 
said  Max,  less  moved  than  any  other  man  in  the  room, 
"  it  is  your  right  to  kill  me ;  but  even  were  I  guilty  I 
doubt  if  my  Lord  of  Burgundy,  who  is  noted  the 
world  over  for  his  bravery,  would  strike  an  unarmed 
man.  If  Your  Grace  wished  to  attack  me,  you  would 
give  me  arms  equal  to  your  own.  If  you  should  kill 
me,  unarmed  as  I  am,  you  would  be  more  pitiable 
than  any  other  man  in  Burgundy.  You  would  despise 
yourself,  and  all  mankind  would  spurn  you." 

"  Do  you  not  fear  me  ? "  asked  the  duke,  still 
clutching  the  hilt  of  his  unsheathed  dagger. 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  have  the  least  intent  to 
kill  me,"  answered  Max,  "  but  if  you  have,  you  may 


220  YOLANDA 

easily  do  so,  and  I  shall  be  less  to  be  pitied  than  you. 
No,  I  do  not  fear  you  !  Do  I  look  it,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  No,  by  God,  you  don't  look  it.  Neither  have  you 
cause  to  fear  me,"  said  Charles.  "  There  is  not  another 
man  in  Christendom  could  have  stood  this  ordeal 
without  flinching." 

To  a  brave  man,  bravery  is  above  all  the  cardinal 
virtue.  Charles  turned  toward  his  courtiers  and 
continued :  — 

"  There  is  one  man  who  does  not  fear  me  —  man, 
say  I  ?  He  is  little  more  than  a  boy.  Men  of  Bur 
gundy,  take  a  lesson  from  this  youth,  and  bear  it  in 
mind  when  we  go  to  war." 

The  duke  began  to  unbuckle  his  shirt  of  mail, 
speaking  as  he  did  so :  — 

"  I'll  soon  learn  who  has  lied.  I'll  show  this  boy 
that  I  am  as  brave  as  he." 

Charles  turned  to  Calli. 

"  Sir  Count,  did  you  not  say  this  knight  wished  to 
kill  me,  even  at  the  cost  of  his  own  life  ?  " 

"  I  so  said,  my  lord,  and  so  maintain  upon  my 
honor  as  a  knight  and  upon  my  hope  of  salvation  as  a 
Christian.  I  so  heard  him  avow,"  answered  Calli. 

"  I  will  quickly  prove  or  disprove  your  words,  Sir 
Count,"  said  the  duke,  removing  his  mail  shirt  and 
throwing  it  to  the  floor.  Then  he  turned  to  Max 
and  offered  him  the  hilt  of  his  dagger :  "  If  you 
would  purchase  my  death  at  the  cost  of  your  life, 


PERONNE   LA  PUCELLE  221 

here  is  my  dagger,  and  you  may  easily  make  the 
barter.  I  am  unarmed.  One  blow  from  that  great 
arm  of  yours  will  end  all  prospects  of  war  with  your 
Switzerland." 

Max  hesitatingly  took  the  dagger  and  looked  with 
a  puzzled  expression  from  it  to  the  duke's  face. 
Campo-Basso  and  his  Italian  friends  moved  toward 
their  lord  as  if  to  protect  him,  but  Charles  waved 
them  back  with  a  protesting  palm. 

"  Switzerland  is  not  my  native  land,  Your  Grace, 
nor  do  I  seek  your  life.  Take  your  dagger,"  said  Max. 

"  I  offer  you  better  terms,"  said  Charles.  "  If  you 
wish  to  kill  me,  I  now  give  you  safe  conduct  beyond 
the  borders  of  Burgundy." 

"My  lord,  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Max,  impa 
tiently,  tossing  the  dagger  to  the  floor  and  stepping 
back  from  the  duke.  A  soft  ripple  of  laughter  was 
heard  in  the  ladies'  gallery. 

"  No,  it  is  not  I  that  am  mistaken,"  said  Charles. 
"  It  is  Campo-Basso  and  his  friends.  Count  Calli, 
prepare  to  give  the  combat  to  this  knight,  whoever 
he  may  be,  and  God  have  mercy  on  your  soul,  for  the 
day  of  your  death  is  at  hand." 

Another  ripple  of  soft  laughter  came  from  the 
ladies'  gallery. 

"  I  cannot  fight  him,"  wailed  Calli.  "  I  am  suffer 
ing  from  a  broken  arm.  My  horse  fell  with  me  three 
weeks  ago,  as  Your  Grace  well  knows," 


222  YOLANDA 

"  When  your  arm  mends,  you  must  fight  and  prove 
your  cause,  or  by  the  soul  of  God,  you  hang !  We'll 
make  a  fete  of  this  combat,  and  another  of  your 
funeral.  There  shall  be  a  thousand  candles,  and 
masses  sufficient  to  save  the  soul  of  Satan  himself. 
My  Lord  Campo-Basso,  let  not  the  like  of  this  happen 
again.  Vengeance  in  Burgundy  is  mine,  not  my 
Italians'.  Heralds,  dismiss  the  company.  These 
men  are  free." 

All  departed  save  Castleman,  Hymbercourt,  Max, 
and  myself,  who  remained  at  the  duke's  request. 

"  If  you  will  remain  at  the  castle,  you  are  most 
welcome,"  said  Charles,  addressing  Max  and  me.' 

I  would  have  jumped  at  the  offer,  but  Max  thanked 
the  duke  and  declined. 

"We  will,  with  Your  Grace's  permission,  remain 
at  Grote's  inn  for  a  short  time  and  then  ask  leave  to 
depart  from  Burgundy." 

The  duke  answered  :  — 

"  As  you  will.  I  do  not  press  you.  If  you  change 
your  mind,  come  to  the  castle,  and  you  will  be  very 
welcome." 

He  turned  and,  with  brief  adieu,  left  the  great  hall 
by  the  small  door  near  the  dais.  Castleman,  Hymber 
court,  and  Max  passed  out  through  the  great  doors, 
and  I  was  about  to  follow  them  when  I  was  startled 
by  the  voice  I  had  heard  in  the  night :  — 

"Little  Max,  Little  Max,"  came  softly  from  the 
ladies'  gallery. 


PERONNE   LA  PUCELLE  223 

I  paused  to  hear  more,  but  all  was  silent  in  the 
great  hall.  The  words  could  have  come  from  no 
other  lips  than  Yolanda's  — Mary's.  True,  I  reasoned, 
Yolanda  might  be  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  court,  per 
haps  a  near  relative  of  the  duke.  Once  the  horrifying 
thought  that  he  was  her  lover  came  to  my  mind, 
but  it  fled  instantly.  There  was  no  evil  in  Yolanda. 

Max  did  not  hear  the  voice.  I  intended  to  tell 
him  of  it  when  we  should  reach  the  inn,  and  I 
thought  to  tell  him  also  that  I  believed  Yolanda  was 
the  Princess  Mary.  I  changed  my  mind,  however, 
and  again  had  reason  to  be  thankful  for  my  silence. 


CHAPTER   XII 

A    LIVE    WREN    PIE 

THE  next  day  came  the  invitation  to  sup  at 
Castleman's,  and  we  were  on  hand  promptly  at 
the  appointed  time  —  four  o'clock.  Before  leaving 
the  inn  I  had  determined  to  ask  Castleman  to  satisfy 
my  curiosity  concerning  Yolanda.  With  good  reason 
I  felt  that  it  was  my  duty  and  my  right  to  know 
certainly  who  she  was.  She  might  not  be  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  but  she  surely  was  not  a  burgher  girl,  and 
in  some  manner  she  was  connected  with  the  court  of 
Duke  Charles. 

Max  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  long  room  (it  was 
on  the  ground  floor  and  extended  across  the  entire 
front  of  the  house)  with  Castleman  when  Frau  Kate 
entered  followed  by  Yolanda  and  Twonette.  The  frau 
courtesied,  and  gave  us  welcome.  Twonette  courte- 
sied  and  stepped  to  her  father's  side.  Yolanda  gave 
Max  her  hand  and  lifted  it  to  be  kissed.  The  girl 
laughed  joyously,  and,  giving  him  her  other  hand, 
stood  looking  up  into  his  face.  Her  laughter  soon 
became  nervous,  and  that  change  in  a  womanly 

224 


A  LIVE   WEEN   PIE  225 

woman  is  apt  to  be  the  forerunner  of  tears.  They 
soon  came  to  moisten  Yolanda's  eyes,  but  she  kept 
herself  well  in  hand  and  said :  — 

"  It  has  been  a  very  long  time,  Sir  Max,  since  last 
I  saw  you." 

"  A  hard,  cruel  time  for  me,  Fraulein.  Your  hot 
headed  duke  gives  strange  license  to  his  murderous 
courtiers,"  answered  Max. 

"  It  has  been  a  hard  time  for  others,  too,"  she 
responded.  "  Hard  for  uncle,  hard  for  tante,  hard 
for  Twonette  —  very  hard  for  Twonette."  She  spoke 
jestingly,  but  one  might  easily  see  her  emotion. 

"  And  you,  Fraulein  ?  "  he  asked  smilingly. 

"I  —  I  dare  not  say  how  hard  it  has  been  for  me, 
Little  Max.  Do  you  not  see  ?  I  fear — I  fear  I  shall  — 
weep — if  I  try  to  tell  you.  I  am  almost  weeping  now. 
I  fear  I  have  grown  gray  because  of  it,"  she  answered, 
closing  with  a  nervous  laugh.  Max,  too,  could  hardly 
speak.  She  smiled  up  into  his  face,  and  bending 
before  him  stood  on  tiptoe  to  bring  the  top  of  her 
head  under  his  inspection. 

"You  may  see  the  white  hairs  if  you  look  care 
fully,"  she  said. 

Max  laughed  and  stooped  to  examine  the  great 
bush  of  fluffy  dark  hair. 

"  I  see  not  one  white  hair,"  he  said. 

"  Look  closely,"  she  insisted. 

He  looked  closely,  and  startled   us   all,  including 


226  YOLANDA 

Yolanda,  by  putting  his  lips  to  the  fragrant,  silky 
mass. 

"  Ah ! "  exclaimed  Yolanda,  stepping  back  from 
him  and  placing  her  hand  to  the  top  of  her  head  on 
the  spot  that  he  had  kissed.  She  looked  up  to  him 
with  a  fluttering  little  laugh  :  — 

"I  —  I  did  not  know  you  were  going  to  do  that." 

"  Neither  did  I,"  said  Max. 

Castleman  and  his  wife  looked  displeased  and  Two- 
nette's  face  wore  an  expression  of  amused  surprise. 

After  a  constrained  pause  Frau  Katherine  said  :  — 

"  Our  guests  are  not  in  the  habit  of  kissing  us." 

"  No  one  has  kissed  you,  tante,"  retorted  Yolanda, 
"  nor  do  they  intend  to  do  so.  Do  not  fear.  I  —  I 
brought  it  on  myself,  and  if  I  do  not  complain,  you 
may  bear  up  under  it." 

"  It  certainly  is  unusual  to  —  "  began  the  frau. 

"Tante,"  cried  Yolanda,  flushing  angrily  and  stamp 
ing  her  foot.  Tante  was  silent. 

"  Your  words  night  before  last  brought  marvellous 
comfort  to  us,  Fraulein,"  said  Max.  "  Where  were 
you,  and  how  —  " 

"  My  words  ?  Night  before  last  ?  "  asked  Yolanda, 
in  open-eyed  wonder.  "I  have  not  seen  you  since 
three  weeks  ago." 

"  You  called  to  me  in  my  prison  in  the  tower,"  said 
Max.  «  You  called  to  me  by  the  name  you  sometimes 
use." 


A  LIVE   WREN  PIE  227 

"  Ah,  that  is  wonderful,"  exclaimed  Yolanda.  "  I 
wakened  myself  night  before  last  calling  your  name, 
and  telling  you  not  to  fear.  I  was  dreaming  that  you 
were  in  danger,  but  I  also  dreamed  that  you  would 
soon  be  free.  Can  it  be  possible  that  the  voice  of  a 
dreamer  can  travel  to  a  distance  and  penetrate  stone 
walls  ?  You  almost  make  me  fear  myself  by  telling 
me  that  you  heard  my  call." 

Like  most  persons,  Max  loved  the  mysterious,  so  he 
at  once  became  greatly  interested.  He  would  have 
discussed  the  subject  further  had  not  Yolanda  turned 
to  me,  saying :  — 

"  Ah,  I  have  not  greeted  Sir  Karl." 

She  gave  me  her  hand,  and  I  would  have  knelt  had 
she  not  prevented  me  by  a  surprised  arching  of  her 
eyebrows.  My  attempt  to  salute  her  on  my  knee  was 
involuntary,  but  when  I  saw  the  warning  expression 
in  her  eyes,  I  quickly  recovered  myself.  I  bowed  and 
she  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  garden,"  she  suggested. 

The  others  left  the  room,  but  Yolanda  held  back 
and  detained  me  by  a  gesture. 

"  You  would  have  knelt  to  me,"  she  said  almost 
angrily. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,"  I  replied,  "  the  movement 
was  involuntary." 

"  I  once  warned  you,  Sir  Karl,  not  to  try  to  learn 
anything  concerning  me.  I  told  you  that  useless 


228  YOLANDA 

knowledge  was  dangerous.  You  have  been  guessing, 
and  probably  are  very  far  wrong  in  your  conclusion. 
But  whatever  your  surmises  are,  don't  let  me  know 
them.  Above  all,  say  nothing  to  Sir  Max ;  I  warn 
you !  Unless  you  would  see  no  more  of  me,  bear 
this  warning  in  mind.  Yolanda  is  a  burgher  girl. 
Treat  her  accordingly,  and  impress  the  fact  on  Sir  Max. 
Were  I  as  great  as  the  ill-tempered  Princess  of  Bur 
gundy,  whose  estates  you  came  to  woo,  I  should  still 
despise  adulation.  Bah  !  I  hate  it  all,"  she  continued, 
stamping  her  foot.  "  I  hate  princes  and  princesses, 
and  do  not  understand  how  they  can  endure  to  have 
men  kneel  and  grovel  before  them.  This  fine  Princess 
of  Burgundy,  I  am  told,  looks  — "  She  paused  and 
then  went  on :  "I  sometimes  hate  her  most  of  all.  I 
am  a  burgher  girl,  I  tell  you,  and  I  am  proud  of  it. 
I  warn  you  not  to  make  me  other." 

"  Your  warning,  my  lady,  is  —  " 

"  Fraulein  ! "  interrupted  Yolanda,  angrily  stamp 
ing  her  foot,  "  or  Yolanda  —  call  me  either.  If  I  give 
you  the  privilege,  you  should  value  it  sufficiently  to 
use  it." 

"  Yolanda,  I  will  sin  no  more,"  I  responded.  Her 
face  broke  into  a  smile,  and  she  took  my  arm,  laugh 
ing  contentedly. 

I  walked  out  to  the  garden  —  Yolanda  danced  out 
—  and  we  sat  with  the  others  under  the  shade  of  the 
arbor  vines.  Castleman  and  Max  drank  sparingly  of 


A  LIVE  WEEN  PIE  229 

wine  and  honey,  while  I  sipped  orange  water  with 
Yolanda,  Twonette,  and  Frau  Kate. 

« What  do  you  think  of  Burgundy,  Sir  Mai  ? " 
asked  the  burgher.  . 

"  I  like  Grote's  inn  well,"  answered  Max.  "  I  like 
the  castle  dungeon  ill.  I  have  seen  little  else  of  Bur 
gundy  save  in  our  journey  down  the  Somme.  Then 
I  saw  nothing  but  the  road  on  the  opposite  bank. 
Had  I  tried  to  see  the  country  I  should  have  failed ; 
the  dust-cloud  we  carried  with  us  was  impenetrable." 
He  turned  to  Yolanda,  "  That  was  a  hard  journey 
for  you,  Fraulein." 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried,  "  it  was  glorious.  The  excite 
ment  was  worth  a  lifetime  of  monotony ;  it  was 
delightful.  I  could  feel  my  heart  beat  all  the  time, 
and  no  woman  is  sure  she  lives  until  she  feels  the 
beating  of  her  heart." 

I  suspected  a  double  meaning  in  her  words,  but 
no  trace  of  self-consciousness  was  visible  in  her  face. 

"  I  have  often  wondered,  Fraulein,  if  the  papers 
reached  the  castle  before  the  duke  arrived  ? "  asked 
Max. 

"  What  papers  ?  "  queried  Yolanda. 

"  Why,  the  papers  we  made  the  mad  race  to 
deliver,"  answered  Max. 

"  Oh,  y-e-s,"  responded  the  girl,  "  they  arrived  just 
in  time." 

"  And  were  delivered  at  the  gate  ?  "  I  suggested. 


230  YOLANDA 

A  quick,  angry  glance  of  surprise  shot  from 
Yolanda's  eyes,  and  rising  from  her  chair  she  en 
tered  the  house.  Twonette  followed  her,  and  the 
two  did  not  return  for  an  hour.  I  was  accumulating 
evidence  on  the  subject  of  my  puzzling  riddle,  but  I 
feared  my  last  batch  might  prove  expensive.  I  saw 
the  mistake  my  tongue  had  led  me  into.  Many 
a  man  has  wrecked  his  fortune  by  airing  his 
wit. 

When  Yolanda  returned,  she  sat  at  a  little  distance 
from  us,  pouting  beautifully.  The  cause  of  her  unmis 
takable  ill-humor,  of  course,  was  known  only  to  me, 
and  was  a  source  of  wonder  to  Max.  At  the  end  of 
five  minutes,  during  which  there  had  been  little  con 
versation,  Max,  who  was  amused  at  Yolanda's  pout 
ing,  turned  to  her,  and  said  :  — 

"  The  Fates  owe  me  a  few  smiles  as  compensation 
for  their  frowns  during  the  last  three  weeks.  Won't 
you  help  them  to  pay  me,  Fraulein  ?  " 

Her  face  had  been  averted,  but  when  Max  spoke 
she  turned  slowly  and  gave  him  the  smile  he  desired 
as  if  to  say,  "  I  am  not  pouting  at  you." 

Her  act  was  so  childlike  and  her  face  so  child 
ishly  beautiful  that  we  all  smiled  with  amusement 
and  pleasure.  Yolanda  saw  the  smiles  and  turned  on 
us,  pouting  though  almost  ready  to  laugh.  She  rose 
from  her  chair,  stamped  her  foot,  stood  irresolutely 
for  a  moment,  and  then  breaking  into  a  laugh,  drew 


A  LIVE  WEEN  PIE  231 

her  chair  to  our  little  circle  —  next  to  Max  —  and  sat 
down. 

"  Xante,  is  supper  never  to  be  served  ?  "  she  asked. 
«  I  am  impatient  to  see  the  live  wren  pie." 

"  Live  wren  pie  ?  "  asked  Max,  incredulously. 

"  Yes.  Have  you  never  seen  one  ? "  asked 
Yolanda. 

"  Surely  not,"  he  replied. 

"  Ah,  you  have  a  treat  in  store,"  she  exclaimed, 
clapping  her  hands  enthusiastically.  "  Uncle  carves 
the  pie,  the  wrens  fly  out,  you  open  your  mouth,  and 
the  birds,  being  very  small,  fly  down  your  throat  and 
save  you  the  trouble  of  eating  them.  They  are  trained 
to  do  it,  you  know." 

A  chorus  of  laughter  followed  this  remarkable  state 
ment.  Max  leaned  forward,  rested  his  elbows  on  his 
knees,  looked  at  the  ground  for  the  space  of  half  a 
minute,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  was  mistaken  in  saying  that  I  had  never  par 
taken  of  the  dish.  While  at  Basel  I  foolishly  opened 
my  mouth,  and  a  beautiful  little  bird  flew  down  my 
throat  to  my  heart." 

Frau  Castleman  coughed,  and  the  burgher  moved  in 
his  chair  and  swallowed  half  a  goblet  of  wine.  Two- 
nette  laughed  outright  at  the  pretty  turn  Max  had  made 
upon  Yolanda,  and  I  ridiculously  tried  to  keep  my 
face  expressionless.  Yolanda  laughed  flutteringly, 
and  the  long  lashes  fell. 


232  YOLANDA 

"  That  was  prettily  spoken,  Sir  Max,"  she  said, 
smiling.  "No  Frenchman  could  improve  upon  it. 
You  are  constantly  surprising  me." 

"Are  Frenchmen  apt  at  such  matters,  Fraulein  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  I  have  known  but  few  Frenchmen,"  she  responded. 
"  You  know  Burgundy  and  France  are  natural  ene 
mies,  like  the  cat  and  the  dog.  I  have  little  love  for 
the  French.  I  speak  only  from  hearsay." 

"  You  will  do  well  to  learn  to  like  them,"  I 
suggested.  "  Burgundy  itself  will  soon  be  French,  if 
the  Princess  Mary  weds  the  Dauphin." 

By  speaking  freely  of  the  princess,  I  hoped  Yolanda 
might  believe  that,  whatever  my  surmises  were  con 
cerning  her  identity,  I  did  not  suspect  that  she  was 
Mademoiselle  de  Burgundy. 

Yolanda  sighed,  but  did  not  answer.  Silence  fell 
upon  our  little  party,  and  after  a  long  pause  I  turned 
to  Twonette  :  — 

"  I  remember  that  Franz  told  me  at  Basel,  Fraulein 
Twonette,  that  you  and  this  famous  Princess  Mary  of 
Burgundy  were  friends." 

"Yes,"  answered  Twonette,  with  an  effort  not  to 
smile,  "  she  has,  at  times,  honored  me  with  her 
notice." 

"  Out  of  that  fact  grows  Twonette's  serene  dignity," 
laughed  Yolanda.  "  On  the  strength  of  this  acquaint 
ance  she  quite  lords  it  over  us  at  times,  and  is  always 


A  LIVE  WREN  PIE  233 

reminding  me  of  the  many  haughty  virtues  of  her 
friend  as  a  pattern  that  1  should  follow.  You  see,  I 
am  incessantly  confronted  with  this  princess." 

I  thought  it  was  a  pretty  piece  of  acting,  though 
the  emphasis  of  her  dislike  for  the  princess  was  un 
mistakably  genuine. 

"  The  duke  has  graciously  invited  us  to  the  castle," 
I  said,  "  and  I  hope  to  have  the  honor  of  seeing  the 
princess." 

When  I  spoke  of  the  duke's  invitation,  I  at  once 
caught  Yolanda's  attention. 

"  You  will  not  meet  the  princess  if  you  go  to  the 
castle,"  said  Yolanda.  "  She  is  an  ill-natured  person, 
I  am  told,  and  is  far  from  gracious  to  strangers." 

"  I  do  not  hope  for  such  an  honor,"  I  replied.  "  I 
should  like  merely  to  see  her  before  I  leave  Burgundy. 
That  is  all  the  favor  I  ask  at  her  hands.  She  is  a  lady 
famed  throughout  all  Europe  for  her  beauty  and  her 
gentleness." 

"  She  doesn't  merit  her  fame,"  responded  Yolanda, 
carefully  examining  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap,  and 
glancing  nervously  toward  Max. 

"  Do  you  know  Her  Highness  ?  "  I  asked. 

"I  —  I  have  heard  enough  of  her  and  have  often 
seen  her,"  she  replied.  "  She  usually  rides  out  with 
her  ladies  at  this  hour.  From  the  upper  end  of  the 
garden  you  may  soon  see  her  come  through  the  Pos 
tern  gate,  if  you  care  to  watch." 


234  YOLANDA 

"  I  certainly  should  like  to  see  her,"  I  answered, 
rapidly  losing  faith  in  my  conclusion  that  Yolanda 
was  the  princess. 

The  Castleraans  did  not  offer  to  move,  but  Yo 
landa,  springing  to  her  feet,  said,  «  Come,"  and  led 
the  way. 

The  upper  end  of  the  garden,  as  I  have  told  you, 
was  on  the  banks  of  the  Cologne  at  a  point  where  it 
flowed  into  the  castle  moat.  The  castle  wall,  sixty 
feet  high  at  that  point,  bordered  the  west  side  of  the 
garden.  The  moat  curved  along  the  right  side,  and 
the  river  flowed  past  the  upper  end.  Castleman's 
house  faced  south,  and  stood  on  the  lower  end  of  the 
strip  of  ground  that  lay  between  the  castle  wall  and 
the  moat.  The  Postern  was  perhaps  three  hundred 
yards  north  from  the  upper  end  of  Castleman's  garden. 
Since  it  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  one 
could  reach  the  Postern,  from  Castleman's  house,  only 
by  going  up  to  the  town  bridge  and  back  to  the  cas 
tle  by  the  street  that  followed  the  north  side  of  the 
Cologne. 

We  all  walked  to  the  upper  end  of  the  garden,  and 
stood  leaning  against  the  low  stone  wall  at  the  river's 
edge.  We  had  waited  perhaps  ten  minutes  when  we 
heard  a  blare  of  trumpets  and  saw  a  small  cavalcade 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen  ride  from  the  castle  and  pass 
over  the  drawbridge. 

"  The  lady  in  scarlet  is  the  duchess,"  said  Castleman. 


A  LIVE  WEEN  PIE  235 

"  She  is  English,"  remarked  Yolanda,  "  and  loves 
bright  colors." 

"  Which  is  the  princess  ? "  I  asked  of  Yolanda, 
feeling  that  I  also  was  acting  my  part  admirably. 
To  my  surprise  she  answered  promptly :  — 

"  She  in  blue  with  a  falcon  on  her  shoulder.  Am 
I  not  right,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  responded  Castleman.  Twonette  confirmed 
the  statement. 

My  air-castles  fell  noiselessly  about  my  head.  My 
dreams  vanished  like  breath  from  a  cold  mirror,  and 
the  sphinx-like  face  of  my  great  riddle  rose  before 
me  in  defiance. 

After  the  cavalcade  had  passed  I  found  myself 
with  Yolanda  a  dozen  paces  from  the  others. 

"  Fraulein,"  I  said,  "  I  want  to  confess  I  thought 
you  were  the  Princess  Mary  of  Burgundy." 

Yolanda  laughed  softly. 

"  I  was  sure  you  had  some  such  absurd  notion.  I 
supposed  you  had  seen  her,  and  had  believed  she  was 
Yolanda,  the  burgher  girl ;  that  mistake  has  often 
been  made.  You  may  see  this  princess  at  the  castle, 
and  I  warn  you  not  to  be  deceived.  I  have  the  great 
honor,  it  is  said,  to  resemble  Her  Highness  as  one 
pea  resembles  another.  I  have  been  told  that  she 
has  heard  of  the  low-born  maiden  that  dares  to  have 
a  face  like  hers,  and  she  doubtless  hates  me  for  it,  just 
as  I  bear  her  no  good-will  for  the  same  reason.  When 


236  YOLANDA 

two  women  greatly  resemble  each  other,  there  is  sel 
dom  good  feeling  between  them.  Each  believes  the 
other  is  stealing  something  of  her  personality,  and 
a  woman's  vanity  prompts  her  to  resent  it.  If  you 
make  the  mistake  with  the  princess  that  you  made  with 
me,  I  warn  you  it  will  not  be  so  easily  corrected." 

My  poor  riddle  !  My  stony  sphinx  !  My  clinging 
hallucination !  Again  I  should  have  it  with  me, 
stalking  at  my  side  by  day,  lying  by  me  at  night, 
whirling  through  my  brain  at  all  times,  and  driving 
me  mad  with  its  eternal  question,  "  Who  is  Yolanda  ?  " 
The  solution  of  my  riddle  may  be  clear  to  you  as 
I  am  telling  you  the  story.  At  least,  you  may 
think  it  is,  since  I  am  trying  to  conceal  nothing  from 
you.  I  relate  this  history  in  the  order  of  its  happen 
ing,  and  wish,  if  possible,  to  place  before  you  the 
manner  in  which  this  question  of  Yolanda's  identity 
puzzled  me.  If  you  will  put  yourself  in  my  place, 
you  will  at  once  realize  how  deeply  I  was  affected  by 
this  momentous,  unanswered,  unanswerable  question, 
"  Who  is  Yolanda  ?  "  and  you  will  understand  why 
I  could  not  see  the  solution,  however  clear  you  may 
believe  it  to  be  to  yourself. 

We  soon  went  in  to  supper  and,  after  the  peacock, 
the  pheasants,  and  the  pastries  were  removed,  we 
were  served  with  a  most  delicious  after-dish  in 
sparkling  glass  cups.  It  was  frozen  orange-water 
mixed  with  wine  of  Burgundy.  I  had  never  tasted  a 


A  LIVE   WEEN   PIE  237 

dish  so  palatable.  I  had  dined  at  the  emperor's  table 
in  Vienna ;  I  had  lived  in  Italy ;  I  had  sojourned 
in  the  East,  where  luxuries  are  most  valued  and  used, 
but  I  had  never  partaken  of  a  more  delicious  supper 
than  that  which  I  ate  at  the  house  of  my  rich  burgher 
friend,  George  Castleman.  There  might  have  been  a 
greater  showing  of  plate,  though  that  was  not  lack 
ing,  but  there  could  have  been  no  whiter  linen  nor 
more  appetizing  dishes  than  those  which  good  Frau 
Kate  gave  us  that  evening. 

After  the  frozen  wine  had  disappeared,  a  serving- 
maid  brought  in  a  stoneware  pan  covered  with  a 
snowy  pastry,  made  from  the  whites  of  eggs  and 
clear  sugar.  At  its  entry  Yolanda  clapped  her  hands 
and  cried  out  with  childish  delight.  When  the  pan 
was  placed  before  Castleman,  she  exclaimed :  — 

"  Be  careful,  uncle !  Don't  thrust  the  knife  too 
deep,  or  you  will  kill  the  birds." 

Uncle  Castleman  ran  the  point  of  the  knife  around 
the  outer  edge  of  the  crust,  and,  with  a  twist  of  the 
blade,  quickly  lifted  it  from  the  pan,  when  out  flew 
a  dozen  or  more  wrens.  Yolanda's  delight  knew  no 
bounds.  She  sprang  from  her  chair,  exclaiming :  — 

"  Catch  them  !     Catch  them  !  "  and  led  the  way. 

She  climbed  on  chairs,  tables,  and  window  shelves, 
and  soon  had  her  hands  full  of  the  demure  little 
songsters.  Max,  too,  was  pursuing  the  wrens,  and 
Twonette,  losing  part  of  her  serenity,  actually  caught 


238  YOLANDA 

a  bird.  The  sport  was  infectious,  and  soon  fat  old 
Castleman  was  puffing  like  a  tired  porpoise,  and 
sedate  old  Karl  de  Pitti  was  in  the  chase.  Frau 
Katherine  grabbed  desperately  at  a  bird  now  and 
then,  but  she  was  too  stout  to  catch  one  and  soon 
took  her  chair,  laughing  and  out  of  breath.  Yolanda 
screamed  with  laughter,  and  after  she  had  caught  six 
or  seven  birds  and  put  them  in  the  cage  provided  for 
them,  she  asked  Max  to  lift  her  in  his  arms  that  she 
might  reach  one  resting  on  a  beam  near  the  ceiling. 
Max  gladly  complied,  and  Yolanda,  having  caught  the 
bird,  said  :  — 

"  Now,  Sir  Max,  open  your  mouth." 

"I  have  already  swallowed  one,"  said  Max,  laughing, 
"  and  I  will  swallow  none  other  so  long  as  I  live." 

As  Max  lowered  her  to  the  floor  her  arm  fell  about 
his  neck  for  an  instant,  and  the  great  strong  boy 
trembled  at  the  touch  of  this  weak  girl. 

Out  to  the  garden  we  went  again  after  supper, 
and  when  dusk  began  to  fall,  Yolanda  led  Max  to  a 
rustic  seat  in  the  deep  shadow  of  the  vines.  I  could 
not  hear  their  words,  but  I  learned  afterward  of  the 
conversation. 

When  I  thought  Yolanda  was  the  princess,  I  was 
joyful  because  of  the  marked  favor  that  she  showed 
Max.  When  I  thought  she  was  a  burgher  girl,  I  felt 
like  a  fussy  old  hen  with  a  flock  of  ducks  if  he  were 
alone  with  her.  She  seemed  then  a  bewitching  little 


A  LIVE  WREN  PIE  239 

ogress  slowly  devouring  ray  handsome  Prince  Max. 
That  she  was  fair,  entrancing,  and  lovable  beyond  any 
woman  I  had  ever  known,  only  added  to  my  anxiety. 
Would  Max  be  strong  enough  to  hold  out  against  her 
wooing  ?  I  don't  like  to  apply  the  word  "  wooing  "  to 
a  young  girl's  conduct,  but  we  all  know  that  woman 
does  her  part  in  the  great  system  of  human  mating 
when  the  persons  most  interested  do  the  choosing ; 
and  it  is  right  that  she  should.  The  modesty  that 
prevents  a  woman  from  showing  her  preference  is  the 
result  of  a  false  philosophy,  and  flies  in  the  face  of 
nature.  Her  right  to  choose  is  as  good  as  man's. 

If  Yolanda's  wooing  was  more  pronounced  than  is 
usual  with  a  modest  young  girl,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  her  situation  was  different.  She  knew  that  Max 
had  been  restrained  from  wooing  her  only  because  of 
the  impassable  gulf  that  lay  between  them.  Ardor  in 
Max  when  marriage  was  impossible  would  have  been 
an  insult  to  Yolanda.  His  reticence  for  conscience' 
sake  and  for  her  sake  was  the  most  chivalric  flattery 
he  could  have  paid  her.  She  saw  the  situation 
clearly,  and,  trusting  Max  implicitly,  felt  safe  in 
giving  rein  to  her  heart.  She  did  not  care  to  hide 
from  him  its  true  condition.  On  the  contrary  she 
wished  him  to  be  as  sure  of  her  as  she  was  of 
him,  for  after  all  that  would  be  the  only  satisfaction 
they  would  ever  know. 

I  argued :  If  Yolanda  were  the  princess,  betrothed 


240  YOLANDA 

to  the  Dauphin,  the  gulf  between  her  and  Max  was 
as  impassable  as  if  she  were  a  burgher  girl.  In 
neither  case  could  she  hope  to  marry  him.  There 
fore,  her  girlish  wooing  was  but  the  outcry  of  nature 
and  was  without  boldness. 

The  paramount  instinct  of  all  nature  is  to  flower. 
Even  the  frozen  Alpine  rock  sends  forth  its  edelweiss, 
and  the  heart  of  a  princess  is  first  the  heart  of  a 
woman,  and  must  blossom  when  its  spring  comes.  All 
the  conventions  that  man  can  invent  will  not  keep 
back  the  flower.  All  created  things,  animate  and  in 
animate,  have  in  them  an  uncontrollable  impulse 
which,  in  their  spring,  reverts  with  a  holy  retrospect 
to  the  great  first  principle  of  existence,  the  love  of 
reproduction. 

Yolanda's  spring  had  come,  and  her  heart  was  a 
flower  with  the  sacred  bloom.  Being  a  woman,  she 
loved  it  and  cuddled  it  for  the  sake  of  the  pain  it 
brought,  as  a  mother  fondles  a  wayward  child.  Max, 
being  a  man,  struggled  against  the  joy  that  hurt  him 
and,  with  a  sympathy  broad  enough  for  two,  feared  the 
pain  he  might  bring  to  Yolanda.  So  this  unresponsive- 
ness  in  Max  made  him  doubly  attractive  to  the  girl, 
who  was  of  the  sort,  whether  royal  or  bourgeois, 
before  whom  men  usually  fall. 

« I  thought  you  had  left  me,  Sir  Max,"  she  said, 
drawing  him  to  a  seat  beside  her  in  the  shade. 

"I  promised  you  I   would  not  go,"  he  responded, 


A  LIVE   WEEN   PIE  241 

"  and  I  would  not  willingly  break  my  word  to  any 
one,  certainly  not  to  you,  Fraulein." 

"  I  was  angry  when  I  heard  you  had  left  the  inn," 
she  said,  "and  I  spoke  unkindly  of  you.  There  has 
been  an  ache  in  my  heart  ever  since  that  nothing  but 
confession  and  remission  will  cure." 

"  I  grant  the  remission  gladly,"  answered  Max. 
"  There  was  flattery  in  your  anger." 

The  girl  laughed  softly  and,  clasping  her  hands 
over  her  knee,  spoke  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  think  women  have  the  harder  part  of  life  in 
everything.  I  again  ask  you  to  promise  me  that  you 
will  not  leave  Peronne  within  a  month." 

"  I  cannot  promise  you  that,  Fraulein,"  answered 
Max. 

"  You  will  some  day  —  soon,  perhaps  —  know  my 
reasons,"  said  Yolanda,  "  and  if  they  do  not  prove 
good  I  am  willing  to  forfeit  your  esteem.  That  is 
the  greatest  hostage  I  can  give." 

"  I  cannot  promise,"  answered  Max,  stubbornly. 

"  I  offer  you  another  inducement,  one  that  will 
overmatch  the  small  weight  of  my  poor  wishes.  I 
promise  to  bring  you  to  meet  this  Mary  of  Burgundy 
whom  you  came  to  woo.  I  cannot  present  you,  but 
I  will  see  that  Twonette  brings  about  the  meeting. 
I  tell  you,  as  I  have  already  told  Sir  Karl,  that  it  is 
said  I  resemble  this  princess,  so  you  must  not  mistake 
her  for  me." 


242  YOLANDA 

When  Max  told  me  of  this  offer  I  wondered  if  the 
girl  had  been  testing  him,  and  a  light  dawned  on  me 
concerning  her  motives. 

"  I  did  not  come  to  woo  her,"  answered  Max, 
"  though  she  may  have  been  a  part  of  my  reason  for 
coming.  I  knew  that  she  was  affianced  to  the  Dauphin 
of  France.  Her  beauty  and  goodness  were  known 
to  me  through  letters  of  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt, 
written  to  my  dear  old  friend  Karl.  Because  of 
certain  transactions,  of  which  you  do  not  know  and 
of  which  I  may  not  speak,  I  esteemed  her  for  a  time 
above  all  women,  though  I  had  never  seen  her.  I 
still  esteem  her,  but  — but  the  other  is  all  past  now, 
Fraulein,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  meet  the  princess, 
though  the  honor  would  be  far  beyond  my  deserts." 

"  Why  do  you  not  wish  to  meet  her  ? "  asked 
Yolanda,  with  an  air  of  pleasure.  Max  hesitated, 
then  answered  bluntly  :  — 

"  Because  I  have  met  you,  Fraulein.  You  should 
not  lead  me  to  speak  such  words." 

Yolanda  touched  Max's  arm  and  said  frankly  :  — 

"  There  can  be  no  harm,  Max.  If  you  knew  all, 
—  if  I  could  tell  you  all,  —  you  would  understand. 
The  words  can  harm  neither  of  us."  She  hesitated 
and,  with  drooping  head,  continued  :  "  And  they  are  to 
me  as  the  sun  and  the  south  wind  to  the  flowers  and 
the  corn.  You  already  know  all  that  is  in  my  heart,  or 
I  would  not  speak  so  plainly.  In  all  my  life  I  have 


A  LIVE   WREN   PIE  243 

known  little  of  the  sweet  touch  of  human  sympathy 
and  love,  and,  Max,  my  poor  heart  yearns  for  them 
until  at  times  I  feel  like  the  flowers  without  the  sun 
and  the  corn  without  the  rain,  —  as  if  I  will  die  for 
lack  of  them.  I  am  almost  tempted  to  tell  you  all." 

"  Tell  me  all,  Yolanda,"  entreated  Max,  "  for  I,  too, 
have  suffered  from  the  same  want,  though  my  mis 
fortune  comes  from  being  born  to  a  high  estate.  If 
you  but  knew  the  lonely,  corroding  misery  of  those 
born  to  a  station  above  the  reach  of  real  human 
sympathy,  you  would  not  envy,  you  would  pity  them. 
You  would  be  charitable  to  their  sins,  and  would 
thank  God  for  your  lowly  lot  in  life.  I  will  tell 
you  my  secret.  I  am  Maximilian  of  Hapsburg." 

"  I  have  known  it  since  the  first  day  I  saw  you 
at  Basel,"  answered  Yolanda. 

"  I  have  felt  sure  at  times  that  you  did,"  responded 
Max,  "  though  I  cannot  think  how  you  learned  it. 
Will  you  tell  me  of  yourself  ?  " 

The  girl  hung  her  head  and  hesitated.  Once  she 
lifted  her  face  to  speak,  but  changed  her  mind. 

"  Please  don't  ask  me  now.  I  will  tell  you  soon, 
but  not  now,  not  now.  Be  patient  with  me.  I  do 
pity  you.  I  do,  I  do.  If  we  could  help  each  other 
—  but  we  cannot,  and  there  is  no  use  longing  for  it. 
I  sometimes  fear  that  your  attitude  is  the  right  one, 
and  that  it  is  best  that  we  should  part  and  meet  no 
more." 


244  YOLANDA 

The  proposition  to  part  and  meet  no  more  was 
good  in  theory,  but  Max  found  that  the  suggestion 
to  make  a  fact  of  it  frightened  him. 

"  Let  us  not  speak  of  that  now,"  he  said.  "  The 
parting  will  come  soon  enough.  You  will  surely 
deem  me  cold  and  unworthy,  Fraulein,  but  you  cannot 
understand.  One  may  not  call  a  man  hard  and  selfish 
who  plucks  out  his  eye  for  the  sake  of  a  God-imposed 
duty,  or  who  deliberately  thrusts  away  happiness  and 
accepts  a  life  of  misery  and  heartache  because  of  the 
chains  with  which  God  bound  him  at  his  birth." 

"  Ah,  I  do  understand,  Max ;  I  understand  only  too 
well,"  answered  the  girl. 

I  have  often  wondered  why  Max  did  not  suspect 
that  Yolanda  was  the  Princess  Mary ;  but  when  I 
considered  that  he  had  not  my  reasons  to  lead  him 
to  that  conclusion,  I  easily  understood  his  blindness, 
for  even  I  was  unconvinced.  Had  I  not  overheard 
Castleman's  conversation  with  Yolanda  on  the  road 
to  Strasburg,  after  meeting  De  Rose,  the  supposition 
that  the  burgher  girl  travelling  unattended  with  a  mer 
chant  and  his  daughter  could  possibly  be  the  Princess 
Mary  would  have  been  beyond  the  credence  of  a  sane 
man.  The  thought  never  would  have  occurred  to  me. 
Even  with  Castleman's  words  always  ringing  in  my 
ears,  I  was  constantly  in  doubt. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  one  should  deliberately 
hasten  the  day  of  one's  thralldom,"  said  Yolanda, 


A  LIVE   WEEN   PIE  245 

softly.  "  If  one  may  be  free  and  happy  for  an  hour 
without  breaking  those  terrible  chains  of  God's  weld 
ing,  is  he  not  foolish  to  refuse  the  small  benedic 
tion  ?  The  memory  of  it  may  sweeten  the  years  to 
come." 

"  To  woman,  such  a  memory  is  sweet,"  answered 
Max,  striving  to  steel  his  heart  against  the  girl.  "  To 
men,  it  is  a  bitter  regret." 

To  me  he  had  spoken  differently  of  his  pain. 

"  Then  be  generous,  Little  Max,  and  give  me  the 
sweet  memory,"  said  the  girl,  carried  away  by  the 
swirling  impulse  of  her  heart. 

"  You  will  not  need  it,"  answered  Max.  "  Your 
lot  will  be  different  from  mine." 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  different,  Max  —  it  will  be  worse," 
she  cried  passionately,  almost  in  tears.  "  I  think 
I  shall  kill  myself  when  you  leave  Burgundy."  She 
paused  arid  turned  fiercely  upon  him,  "  Give  me  the 
promise  I  ask.  I  demand  at  least  that  consolation 
as  my  right  —  as  a  poor  return  for  what  you  take 
from  me." 

Max  gently  took  her  hand,  which  was  at  once  lost 
in  his  great  clasp. 

"Fraulein,  I  will  not  leave  Burgundy  within  a 
month,  whatever  the  consequences  may  be,"  he  said 
tenderly. 

"  Upon  your  honor  ?  "  she  asked,  joyously  clapping 
her  hands. 


246  YOLANDA 

"  Every  promise  I  make,  Fraulein,  is  on  my  honor," 
said  Max,  seriously. 

"So  it  is,  Little  Max,  so  it  is,"  she  answered 
gently.  Then  they  rose  and  came  to  the  table  where 
Castleman  and  I  were  sitting. 

Yolanda  had  gained  her  point  and  was  joyful  over 
her  victory. 

Frau  Katherine  was  asleep  in  a  high-backed  chair. 
Twonette  slept  in  a  corner  of  the  arbor,  her  flaxen 
head  embowered  in  a  cluster  of  leaves  and  illumined 
by  a  stray  beam  of  moonlight  that  stole  between  the 
vines. 

"  I  am  going  in  now.  Come,  Twonette,"  said  Yo 
landa,  shaking  that  plump  young  lady  to  arouse  her. 
«  Come,  Twonette." 

Twonette  slowly  opened  her  big  blue  eyes,  but  she 
was  slower  in  awakening. 

"  Twonette  !  Twonette  !  "  cried  Yolanda,  pulling  at 
the  girl's  hand.  "  I  declare,  if  you  don't  resist  this 
growing  drowsiness  you  will  go  down  in  history  as 
the  « Eighth  Sleeper,'  and  will  be  left  snoring  on 
resurrection  morn." 

When  Twonette  had  awakened  sufficiently  to  walk, 
we  started  from  the  arbor  to  the  house.  As  we 
passed  from  beneath  the  vines,  the  frowning  wall  of 
the  castle  and  the  dark  forms  of  its  huge  towers,  sil 
houetted  in  black  against  the  moon-lit  sky,  formed  a 
picture  of  fierce  and  sombre  gloom  not  soon  to  be 
forgotten. 


A  LIVE  WEEN  PIE  247 

"  The  dark,  frowning  castle  reminds  one  of  its  ter 
rible  lord,"  said  Max,  looking  up  at  the  battlements. 

"  It  does,  indeed,"  answered  Yolanda,  hardly  above 
a  whisper.  Then  we  went  into  the  house. 

"  We  hope  to  see  you  again  for  supper  to-morrow 
evening,  don't  we,  uncle  ?  "  said  Yolanda,  addressing 
Max  and  me,  and  turning  to  Castleman. 

«Yes  —  yes,  to-morrow  evening,"  said  the  burgher, 
hesitatingly. 

Max  accepted  the  invitation  and  we  made  our 
adieux. 

At  the  bridge  over  the  Cologne  we  met  Hymber- 
court  returning  to  his  house  from  the  castle.  While 
we  talked,  the  cavalcade  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 
that  we  had  watched  from  Castleman's  garden 
cantered  up  the  street. 

"You  will  now  see  the  princess,"  said  Hymber- 
court.  "  She  comes  with  the  duke  and  the  duchess. 
They  left  the  castle  at  five,  and  have  been  riding  in 
the  moonlight." 

We  stepped  to  one  side  of  the  street  as  the  caval 
cade  passed,  and  I  asked  Hyinbercourt  to  point  out 
the  princess. 

"  She  rides  between  the  duke  —  the  tall  figure  that 
you  may  recognize  by  his  long  beard  —  and  the  page 
carrying  a  hooded  falcon,"  he  answered. 

Surely  this  evidence  should  have  put  my  mind  at 
rest  concerning  my  hallucination  that  Yolanda  was 


248  YOLANDA 

Mary  of  Burgundy ;  but  when  we  reached  the  inn  and 
Max  told  me  of  his  conversation  with  Yolanda  the 
riddle  again  sprang  up  like  a  jack-in-the-box.  I  felt 
that  I  was  growing  weak  in  mind.  Yolanda's  desire 
to  tell  Max  her  secret,  and  her  refusal ;  her  longing 
for  human  sympathy,  and  the  lack  of  it ;  her  wish 
that  he  should  remain  in  Peronne  for  a  month  —  all 
these  made  me  feel  that  she  was  the  princess. 

I  could  not  help  hoping  that  Hymbercourt  was  mis 
taken  in  pointing  out  Her  Highness.  She  rode  in  the 
shadow  of  the  buildings  and  the  moon  was  less  than 
half  full.  Yolanda  might  have  wished  to  deceive  us 
by  pointing  out  the  princess  while  we  watched  the  cav 
alcade  from  Castleman's  garden.  The  burgher  and 
Twonette  might  have  been  drawn  into  the  plot 
against  us  by  the  impetuous  will  of  this  saucy  little 
witch.  Many  things,  I  imagined,  had  happened  which 
would  have  appeared  absurd  to  a  sane  man  —  but  I 
was  not  sane.  I  wished  to  believe  that  Yolanda 
was  the  princess,  and  I  could  not  get  the  notion  out  of 
my  head. 

Yolanda's  forwardness  with  Max,  if  she  were  Mary 
of  Burgundy,  could  easily  be  explained  on  the  ground 
that  she  was  a  princess,  and  was  entitled  to  speak 
her  mind.  I  was  sure  she  was  a  modest  girl,  there 
fore,  if  she  were  of  lowly  birth,  she  would  have 
hesitated  to  speak  so  plainly  to  Max.  So,  despite 
overwhelming  evidence  to  the  contrary,  I  refused  to 


A  LIVE  WEEN  PIE  249 

be  convinced  that  Yolanda  was  not  Mademoiselle  de 
Burgundy.  I  loved  the  thought  so  dearly  that  I 
could  not  and  would  not  part  with  it.  That  night, 
while  I  lay  pondering  over  the  riddle,  I  determined  to 
do  no  more  guessing,  and  let  the  Fates  solve  it  for  me. 
They  might  give  me  the  answer  soon  if  I  would  "  give 
it  up." 

The  next  evening  we  went  to  Castleman's  house, 
but  we  did  not  see  Yolanda.  Frau  Kate  said  she  was 
indisposed,  and  we  ate  supper  without  her.  It  was 
a  dull  meal,  —  so  much  does  a  good  appetite  wait 
upon  good  company,  —  and  for  the  first  time  I 
realized  fully  the  marvellous  quality  of  this  girl's 
magic  spell.  Max,  of  course,  was  disappointed,  and 
we  walked  back  to  The  Mitre  in  silence. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

A   BATTLE    IN   MID    AIR 

A  DAY  or  two  after  the  supper  of  the  wren  pie, 
Max  bought  from  a  pedler  a  gray  falcon  most 
beautifully  marked,  with  a  scarlet  head  and  neck,  and 
we  sent  our  squires  to  Hymbercourt,  asking  him  to 
solicit  from  the  duke's  seneschal,  my  Lord  de  Vergy, 
permission  to  strike  a  heron  on  the  marshes.  The 
favor  was  easily  obtained,  and  we  went  forth  that 
afternoon  to  try  the  new  hawk. 

The  hours  passed  quickly.  The  hawk  was  per 
fectly  trained,  and  as  fierce  as  a  mountain  wild 
cat.  Its  combats  in  mid  air  were  most  exciting. 
It  would  attack  its  prey  and  drive  it  back  to 
a  point  nearly  over  our  heads.  There  it  waged 
the  battle  of  death.  It  had  killed  three  herons, 
all  of  which  had  fallen  at  our  feet,  and  we  were 
returning  home  when  a  fourth  rose  from  the 
marsh.  We  were  on  a  side  road  or  path,  perhaps 
five  hundred  yards  from  the  main  highway. 

At  the  moment  Max  gave  wing  to  his  bird,  two 
ladies  and  three  gentlemen  came  up  the  road,  re 
turning  to  Peronne,  and  halted  to  witness  the  aerial 

250 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  251 

combat.  That  they  were  of  the  court,  I  could  easily 
see  by  their  habits,  though  the  distance  was  so  great 
that  I  could  not  distinguish  their  faces. 

Never  did  hawk  acquit  itself  more  nobly.  It 
seemed  to  realize  that  it  had  a  distinguished  audi 
ence.  The  heron  opened  the  battle  desperately,  and 
persisted  in  keeping  its  course  to  the  south.  The 
hawk,  not  ready  for  battle  till  the  prey  should  be 
over  oar  heads,  circled  round  and  round  the  heron, 
constantly  striking,  but  carefully  avoiding  the  coup 
de  grace.  After  the  birds  had  flown  several  hundred 
yards  away  from  us,  and  were  growing  small  in  the 
distance,  the  heron,  less  hardy  than  its  knightly  foe, 
showed  signs  of  weariness  and  confusion.  It  changed 
its  course,  still  flying  away  from  us.  This  did  not 
suit  the  hawk,  and  it  continued  circling  about  its 
faltering  prey  with  a  vicious  swiftness  well  calcu 
lated  to  inspire  terror.  Its  movements  became  so 
rapid  that  it  appeared  to  describe  a  gray  circle  about 
the  heron.  These  circles,  with  the  heron  as  the  cen 
tre,  constantly  grew  smaller,  and  after  a  time  we 
could  see  that  the  birds  were  slowly  but  surely 
approaching  us. 

When  they  were  almost  over  our  heads,  the  hawk 
rose  with  incredible  swiftness  above  its  prey,  and 
dropped  like  a  bolt  of  gray  lightning  upon  the  heron. 
Then  followed  a  struggle  that  lasted  while  the  birds 
fell  three  hundred  feet.  When  within  fifty  feet  of  the 


252  YOLANDA 

ground  the  hawk  suddenly  spread  its  wings  and  stood 
motionless  in  mid  air,  watching  its  vanquished  foe  as  it 
fell  to  a  spot  within  ten  yards  of  where  we  stood.  The 
movement  of  the  falcon  in  descending  to  us  can  only 
be  described  as  a  settling  or  gradual  sinking,  with 
outstretched,  motionless  wings.  When  Max  piped, 
the  bird  flew  to  its  master's  wrist  and  held  down  its 
beak  for  the  hood. 

At  the  close  of  the  battle,  the  gentlemen  of  our 
little  audience  clapped  their  hands,  and  the  ladies 
waved  their  kerchiefs.  Max  and  I  raised  our  caps 
and  reined  our  horses  toward  the  main  road.  As  we 
approached,  the  ladies  and  one  of  the  gentlemen 
resumed  their  journey  toward  Cambrai  Gate,  but  the 
others  awaited  us.  When  we  reached  them  we 
found,  to  our  surprise,  Duke  Charles  and  my  Lord 
d'Hymbercourt. 

"  Ah,  it  is  our  unknown  knight  who  was  so  eager 
to  fight  Count  Calli,"  exclaimed  the  duke. 

"  And  still  eager,  Your  Grace,"  answered  Max. 
He  uncovered  upon  approaching  the  duke,  but  after 
a  moment  said,  "  By  Your  Grace's  leave,"  and  re 
sumed  his  cap.  I,  of  course,  remained  uncovered. 
The  duke  showed  surprise  and  irritation  as  he 
anwered :  — 

"  Since  you  do  not  see  fit  to  tell  us  who  you  are, 
you  should  have  the  grace  to  remain  uncovered." 

Max  glanced  quickly  at  the  duke's  face,  and  removed 
his  cap,  as  he  answered,  smiling :  — 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  253 

"  If  it  pleases  Your  Grace,  I  will  remain  uncovered 
even  though  I  be  the  Pope  himself." 

The  duke  saw  the  humor  of  the  situation  and 
replied :  — 

"One  who  owns  so  noble  a  hawk  may  remain 
covered  in  any  man's  presence.  Never  have  I  seen  so 
rare  a  battle  in  mid  air.  The  soul  of  Roland  himself 
must  inhabit  the  bird." 

"  Will  Your  Grace  accept  the  hawk  ?  "  Max  asked. 

"  Gladly,"  answered  the  duke,  "  though  I  hesitate 
to  deprive  you  of  a  bird  to  which  you  must  be 
attached." 

"  Do  not  hesitate  to  give  me  that  pleasure,  my 
lord,"  answered  Max.  "  The  bird  is  yours.  His 
name  is  Caesar.  I  will  send  him  to  the  castle  this 
evening." 

"  Do  not  send  him,"  suggested  the  duke.  "  Double 
your  kindness  by  bringing  him  to-morrow  at  the  noon 
hour,  after  the  morning  audience.  We  must  now 
follow  the  princess.  Adieu,  messieurs." 

The  duke  touched  his  cap,  and  we  bent  almost  to 
our  horses'  manes. 

Charles  and  Hymbercourt  rode  forward  at  a  brisk 
canter,  and  Max  and  I  followed  slowly.  We  entered 
Cambrai  Gate  three  or  four  minutes  after  the  duke 
and  the  princess. 

Max,  eager  to  exhibit  his  hawk  to  Yolanda,  pro 
posed  that  we  ride  directly  to  Castleman's  house. 


254  YOLANDA 

While  we  were  crossing  the  Cologne  bridge  we  saw 
the  duke's  party  enter  the  castle  by  the  Postern,  and 
as  we  turned  a  corner  toward  Castleman's  the  ladies 
looked  in  our  direction  and  the  gentlemen  lifted  their 
caps. 

"  Yolanda  will  be  delighted  when  she  sees  my 
hawk,"  said  Max. 

I  did  not  answer,  but  I  thought  that  Yolanda 
would  not  see  the  bird  that  evening,  since  she  had 
just  entered  the  castle  with  her  father.  I  was  in 
great  glee  of  spirits ;  I  had  at  last  trapped  the  young 
lady.  If  she  were  not  at  Castleman's  house  there 
could  be  but  one  answer  to  my  riddle.  I  did  not 
merely  believe  that  I  should  not  find  her  there;  I 
knew  I  should  not. 

Max  and  I  hitched  our  horses,  and  when  Castle 
man's  front  door  opened,  lo!  there  stood  Yolanda. 
Never  in  all  my  life  have  I  taken  such  a  fall. 

Somewhat  out  of  breath,  Yolanda  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Ah,  Sir  Max  and  Sir  Karl,  I  saw  you  coming  and 
ran  to  give  you  welcome." 

She  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  glee,  strangely  out  of  pro 
portion  to  the  event,  and  there  was  a  look  of  triumph 
in  her  eyes. 

After  we  entered  the  house  Yolanda's  laughter 
continued,  and  if  it  ceased  for  a  moment  it  broke  out 
again  without  a  pretext.  She  was  always  pleased  to 
see  Max,  and  never  failed  to  show  her  pleasure  in 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  255 

laughter  more  or  less ;  but  Max's  presence  could 
hardly  account  for  her  high  merriment  and  the  satis 
faction  she  seemed  to  feel,  as  if  a  great  victory  had 
been  gained.  My  sense  of  utter  defeat  had  nothing 
but  Yolanda's  peculiar  conduct  to  comfort  it. 

To  the  arbor  we  went,  Yolanda  carrying  the  hawk 
on  her  shoulder  and  caressing  it  with  her  cheek.  In 
the  garden,  when  our  adventures  were  related, 
Yolanda,  all  excitement,  could  not  keep  her  chair, 
but  danced  delightedly  like  a  child  and  killed  a  score 
of  imaginary  herons. 

She  stroked  the  falcon's  wings,  and  when  I  said, 
"  My  lord  the  duke  has  graciously  consented  to  accept 
the  bird,"  she  turned  upon  Max,  exclaiming  in  mock 
anger :  — 

"  The  duke  has  graciously  consented  to  accept  the 
bird !  I  should  think  it  required  little  grace  to  accept 
such  a  gift,  though  much  to  give  it.  Why  don't  you 
give  the  bird  to  me,  Sir  Max,  if  you  are  eager  to  part 
with  it  ?  " 

"I  would  gladly  have  given  it  to  you,  Fraulein," 
answered  Max,  "  had  I  supposed  you  could  use  it 
on  the  duke's  marshes.  Only  nobles  practise  the 
royal  sport  of  falconry." 

Yolanda  glanced  quickly  from  Max  to  Castleman, 
turned  her  face  to  the  bird  upon  her  shoulder,  and 
said,  with  a  touch  of  dignity :  — 

"We   receive   small  favors  from  court  once  in  a 


256  YOLANDA 

while,  don't  we,  uncle  ?  We  are  not  dirt  under  the 
nobles'  feet,  if  we  are  plain  burgher  folk,  are  we, 
uncle  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know,  Fraulein,  what  great  pleasure  I 
should  have  taken  in  giving  you  the  bird  ?  "  asked 
Max. 

Yolanda  bent  her  head  to  one  side,  placed  her 
cheek  against  the  falcon's  wing  and  pouted.  Her 
pout  was  prettier  even  than  her  smile,  and  that  is 
saying  a  great  deal. 

After  a  few  minutes  Yolanda  started  to  walk  up 
the  garden  path  and  Max  followed  her,  leaving  the 
Castlemans  and  me  under  the  arbor.  Yolanda,  still 
pouting,  carried  Caesar  on  her  shoulder,  lavishing 
caresses  on  the  bird  that  excited  Max's  bitterest 
envy.  Max  spoke  at  intervals,  but  she  answered  only 
to  the  bird.  After  many  futile  efforts  to  make  her 
speak,  he  said  :  — 

"  If  you  won't  talk  to  me,  I'll  go  back  to  the 
arbor." 

She  turned  to  the  bird  :  "  We  are  willing,  Caesar, 
aren't  we  —  if  he  can  go." 

Max  laughed  and  started  toward  the  arbor. 

"  Tell  him  to  come  back,  Caesar.  Tell  him  to  come 
back,"  exclaimed  Yolanda. 

"  I  take  no  orders  from  a  bird,"  declared  Max,  with 
pretended  seriousness.  Then  she  turned  toward  him 
and  her  face  softened.  She  smiled  and  the  dimples 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID   AIR  257 

came,  though  there  was  a  nervous  tremor  in  the  up 
turned  corners  of  her  mouth  that  belied  her  bantering 
air  and  brought  Max  quickly  to  her  side.  I  saw  the 
pantomime,  though  I  did  not  hear  the  words ;  and  I 
knew  that  neither  Max  nor  any  other  man  could  with 
stand  the  quivering  smile  that  played  upon  Yolanda's 
lips  and  the  yearning  invitation  that  was  in  her  eyes. 
If  Max  did  not  soon  take  himself  away  from  Burgundy 
and  lead  himself  out  of  this  temptation,  I  feared  that 
in  the  end  he  would  cast  aside  his  ancient  heritage, 
rend  his  sacred  family  ties,  and  forego  everything  he 
possessed  in  response  to  this  mighty  cry  of  nature, 
offering  the  one  chance  in  life  for  happiness. 

"  Now  you  will  give  me  the  bird  —  I  know  you 
will,"  exclaimed  Yolanda. 

A  remnant  of  the  pout  still  hovered  about  her  lips, 
doing  battle  with  the  dimples  of  a  smile. 

"  I  have  already  given  him  to  the  duke,"  answered 
Max. 

"  Tell  the  duke  the  bird  escaped,  or  died  suddenly 
of  an  apoplexy.  Tell  him  anything  you  like,  but  give 
me  the  hawk,"  said  Yolanda. 

"  Would  you  have,  me  lie,  Fraulein  ?  "  asked  Max, 
amused  at  her  persistency.  «  I  cannot  do  that,  even 
for  you.  If  you  insist  upon  having  the  bird,  I  may 
go  to  the  duke  and  withdraw  my  gift." 

"  Would  you  do  that  for  me,  Sir  Max  ?  "  she  asked, 
eagerly. 


258  YOLANDA 

"  Ay,  and  a  great  deal  more,  Fraulein.  I  tremble 
at  the  thought  of  what  you  could  make  me  do,"  he 
answered. 

"  In  the  fiend's  name,  let  the  duke  have  the  bird," 
cried  Yolanda.  "He  will  pout  more  than  I  if  you 
don't.  He  is  of  a  sullen  nature." 

"  Do  you  know  the  duke  ?  "  asked  Max,  suspecting 
for  the  first  time  that  Yolanda  might  be  more 
intimate  about  the  court  than  he  had  supposed. 

"  I  have  heard  much  of  him  from  those  who  know 
him,"  answered  Yolanda. 

So  the  duke  got  Caesar. 

The  next  morning  Hymbercourt  came  to  the  inn  to 
accompany  us  to  the  castle.  While  we  were  sipping 
a  mug  of  wine  at  a  garden  table,  he  said  :  — 

"  I  do  not  want  to  be  officious  in  your  affairs,  but 
I  am  convinced  that  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  tell  the 
duke  who  you  are.  If  you  do  riot  see  fit  to  do  so,  it 
were  wise  in  you  to  leave  Burgundy  at  your  earliest 
convenience." 

"  I  cannot  leave  within  a  month,"  said  Max.  I 
knew  the  cause  of  his  detention,  and,  ignoring  his 
remark,  turned  to  Hymbercourt:  — 

"  Do  you  want  to  give  the  reasons  for  your  advice  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  am  quite  willing,"  he  answered,  "but  I 
would  not  have  my  words  repeated." 

"  Of  that  you  may  rest  assured,"  I  answered. 

"  If  you  do  not  tell  the  duke  who  you  are,"  said 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  259 

Hymbercourt,  "  he  will  soon  learn  it  from  our  Italian 
friends,  who  have  the  fiend's  own  energy  in  the  pur 
suit  of  vengeance.  They  will  discover  who  you  are, 
and  you  will  lose  the  advantage  of  a  frank  avowal. 
Duke  Charles  admires  Sir  Max,  but  our  liege  lord  is 
capricious  and  can  easily  fancy  that  others  are  plot 
ting  to  injure  him.  I  am  sure  that  he  will  now  re 
ceive  the  Count  of  Hapsburg  graciously  if  you  tell  him 
that  Sir  Max  is  that  person.  What  he  would  do 
were  he  to  learn  the  fact  highly  colored  by  his  Italians, 
I  cannot  say.  These  mercenaries  have  a  strange  in 
fluence  over  His  Grace,  and  there  is  not  a  nobleman  in 
Burgundy  who  does  not  fear  them." 

"  How  will  the  duke  feel  concerning  the  old  propo 
sition  of  marriage  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  That,  I  hope,  will  be  of  no  moment  now,  since 
the  duke  is  arranging  for  the  immediate  celebration 
of  this  marriage  with  the  Dauphin.  I  am  given  to 
understand  that  His  Grace,  the  Bishop  of  Cambrai, 
secretary  to  the  duke,  has  received  orders  to  draught 
a  letter  to  King  Louis  expressing  our  lord's  pleasure. 
King  Louis  is  so  eager  for  the  marriage,  which  will 
once  more  bring  Burgundy  to  the  French  kingship, 
that  Duke  Charles  deems  it  sufficiently  courteous  to 
express  his  intentions  to  Louis,  rather  than  to  request 
the  king's  compliance.  The  duke's  contempt  for  the 
king  of  France  is  so  great  that  he  causes  the  letter  to 
be  written  in  English,  a  language  which  Charles  loves 


260  YOLANDA 

because  of  the  English  blood  in  his  veins,  and  which 
Louis,  with  good  reason,  hates." 

"  Has  this  letter  been  despatched  ? "  I  asked,  con 
cealing  as  well  as  I  could  my  deep  concern. 

Max  heard  Hymbercourt's  statement  without  even 
a  show  of  interest.  Had  he  suspected  that  Hymber- 
court  was  speaking  of  Yolanda's  marriage,  there  surely 
would  have  been  a  demonstration. 

"  No,"  answered  Hymbercourt,  "  the  letter  has  not 
been  sent,  but  the  duke  will  despatch  it  at  once.  It 
will  probably  be  the  chief  business  of  this  morning's 
audience.  The  duke  wants  the  marriage  celebrated 
before  he  leaves  for  Switzerland.  That  will  be  within 
three  or  four  weeks.  I  am  not  informed  as  to  the  de 
tails  of  the  ceremony,  but  I  suppose  the  princess  will 
be  taken  to  St.  Denis,  and  will  there  be  married.  The 
unfortunate  princess,  doubtless,  has  not  yet  been  told 
of  her  impending  fate,  though  she  may  have  heard  of 
it  by  rumor.  There  will  be  tears  and  trouble  when 
she  learns  of  it,  for  she  has  a  strong  dash  of  her 
father's  temper.  But  —  "  He  shrugged  his  shoulders 
as  if  to  say  that  her  tears  would  count  for  nothing. 

Hymbercourt's  words  took  the  heart  out  of  me ;  and 
when  he  left  us  for  a  moment,  I  urged  Max  to  leave 
Burgundy  at  once. 

"  I  must  see  Yolanda  and  ask  her  to  release  me 
from  my  promise  before  I  go,"  he  said. 

"  You  are  surely  not  so  weak  as  to  allow  a  burgher 
girl  to  hold  you  ?  "  I  asked. 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  261 

"  The  girl  does  not  hold  me,"  he  answered.  « I 
was  so  weak  as  to  give  my  promise,  and  that  holds 
me." 

"  She  will  give  you  your  release  if  you  demand  it," 
I  suggested. 

"  If  she  does,  I  will  go  with  you  to-morrow.  It  is 
time  that  we  were  out  of  Burgundy.  I  will  forego 
even  my  combat  with  Calli  to  get  away.  I  should 
not  have  given  Yolanda  ray  promise;  but  she  is  so 
persuasive,  and  I  pity  her,  and  —  and,  oh  !  Karl,  I  — 
the  trouble  is,  I  love  her,  and  it  is  like  death  to  part 
from  her  forever.  That  is  my  weakness." 

The  poor,  suffering  boy  leaned  forward  on  the  table 
and  buried  his  face  in  his  arms. 

"  That  isn't  your  weakness,  Max,  it's  your  strength," 
I  responded.  "Few  men  are  so  unfortunate  as  to 
escape  it.  God  must  pity  those  who  do.  It  may 
be  well  to  tell  the  duke  who  you  are.  If  he  is 
displeased,  we  may  leave  Burgundy  at  once.  If  he 
receives  you  graciously,  we  may  remain  and  you  may 
fight  this  Calli.  That  is  the  one  duty  that  holds  you 
in  Peronne." 

My  heart  was  hardened  with  years,  and  its  love  of 
just  vengeance  was  stronger  than  young  Max  could 
feel.  Besides,  he  was  possessed  by  a  softer  passion ; 
and  though  he  felt  it  his  pleasant  duty  to  fight  Calli, 
vengeance  held  second  place  in  his  breast. 

Hymbercourt    returned,    and    we    started    for    the 


262  YOLAKDA 

castle  accompanied  by  our  squires ;  all  riding  in  fine 
state. 

We  arrived  at  the  great  hall  before  the  duke  had 
arisen  from  the  morning  audience,  and  waited  unob 
served  in, the  back  part  of  the  chamber.  Our  Irish 
squire,  Michael,  carried  Caesar,  hooded  and  belled.  He 
was  held  by  a  golden  chain  that  we  had  bought  from 
a  goldsmith,  notwithstanding  our  purse  was  growing 
dangerously  light. 

There  was  a  great  stir  in  the  hall  as  we  entered. 
The  courtiers  were  buzzing  like  a  swarm  of  bees  dis 
cussing  a  new  queen.  Evidently  matters  of  impor 
tance  had  been  under  consideration.  Campo-Basso, 
my  Lord  de  Vergy,  seneschal  of  Burgundy,  and  the 
Bishop  of  Cambrai,  clerk  to  the  duke,  were  standing  on 
the  second  step  of  the  dais,  each  with  hand  resting 
on  knee,  and  leaning  eagerly  toward  the  duke. 
Charles  and  these  councillors  were  speaking  in  low 
tones,  and  the  courtiers  of  less  degree  were  taking 
advantage  of  the  intermission  in  public  business  to 
settle  the  great  question  among  themselves.  Each 
petty  courtier  felt  that  he  could  offer  a  suggestion 
that  would  be  of  great  value,  could  he  but  gain  the 
duke's  ear. 

After  a  little  time,  Charles  saw  Hymbercourt  with 
us,  and  sent  a  page  to  fetch  him.  Hymbercourt  left 
us,  and  soon  we  saw  him  in  whispered  conversation 
with  the  duke.  Soon  after  Hymbercourt  had  gone  to 


the  ducal  throne,  Calli,  with  two  Italians,  stopped 
four  paces  from  where  we  were  standing.  He  gazed 
insolently  at  Max,  and  said  in  Italian  to  his  com 
panions  :  — • 

"There  is  the  loutish  outlander,  who  boasted 
before  the  duke  that  he  would  fight  me.  He  is  a 
big  callow  fellow,  and  it  would  be  a  shame  to  stick 
the  swine." 

Max,  who  understood  the  Italian  language  suffi 
ciently  to  grasp  Calli's  meaning,  flushed  angrily,  but  I 
touched  his  arm  and  he  turned  his  back  upon  the 
fellow.  Then  I  spoke  in  tones  that  Calli  could  not 
fail  to  hear :  — 

«  Never  turn  your  face  from  a  cowardly  foe,  Max. 
He  will,  if  he  can,  stab  you  in  the  back.  Your 
revenge  will  come  when  you  send  his  soul  to 
hell." 

Calli  grasped  his  dagger  hilt  and  muttered  some 
thing  about  the  duke's  presence.  The  incident 
determined  us  in  the  course  Max  should  take.  He 
should  tell  the  duke  who  he  was,  remain  in  Bur 
gundy  to  kill  this  fellow  Calli,  and  to  meet  such  other 
fortune  as  the  Fates  might  have  in  store  for  him. 

Hymbercourt  and  the  duke  spoke  together  for  the 
space  of  five  minutes,  evidently  discussing  a  parch 
ment  that  Charles  held  in  his  hand.  Then  the  duke 
resumed  his  seat,  and  handed  the  parchment  to  the 
Bishop  of  Cambrai,  when  all  save  His  Reverence 


264  YOLANDA 

stepped  from  the  dais  to  the  floor.  A  herald  com 
manded  silence,  and  the  bishop  spoke :  — 

"It  is  the  will  of  our  most  gracious  lord  that  I 
announce  to  the  court  the  impending  marriage  of  Her 
Grace,  the  Princess,  Mademoiselle  de  Burgundy,  to  the 
princely  Dauphin  of  France,  son  to  our  lord's  royal 
ally,  King  Louis.  His  Grace  of  Burgundy  hopes 
within  three  weeks  to  open  his  campaign  against 
the  Swiss,  and  it  is  his  intention  to  cause  the  mar 
riage  ceremony  to  take  place  before  his  departure. 
When  the  details  have  been  arranged,  they  will  be 
announced  to  the  court." 

The  bishop  had  barely  stopped  speaking  when  the 
shutter  in  the  chancel  of  the  ladies'  gallery  above 
the  throne  opened,  and  a  voice  rang  through  the  vast 
audience  hall,  like  the  tones  of  an  alarm  bell :  — 

"Make  one  more  announcement,  please,  my  Lord 
Bishop.  Say  that  if  this  wondrous  ceremony  is  to 
come  off  within  three  weeks,  the  Dauphin  of  France 
must  be  content  with  a  dead  bride." 

No  one  saw  the  face  of  the  speaker.  The  shutter 
closed,  and  a  deep  silence  fell  upon  the  room.  The 
duke  sprang  angrily  to  his  feet ;  his  face  was  like  a 
thunder-cloud.  He  looked  toward  the  ladies'  gallery, 
and  stood  for  a  moment  like  the  incarnation  of  wrath. 
A  puzzled  expression  followed  the  glare  of  anger;  and 
within  a  moment  he  laughed,  and  waved  his  hands 
to  the  heralds,  directing  them  to  cry  the  rising.  The 


A  BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  265 

audience  was  dismissed,  and  the  courtiers  left  the 
hall,  laughing  in  imitation  of  their  lord  and  master. 

Nothing  could  be  more  indicative  of  cruelty  than 
the  laughter  that  followed  the  passionate  protest  of 
the  unhappy  princess.  To  the  duke,  and  of  course 
to  his  courtiers,  the  girl's  suffering  and  the  fate  that 
was  in  store  for  her  were  mere  matters  of  mirth. 
They  laughed  at  her  pain  as  savages  laugh  at  the 
agonies  of  a  tortured  victim. 

I  was  so  startled  by  the  cry  of  the  princess  that 
for  a  time  I  could  not  think  coherently.  My  first 
clear  thought  was  of  Yolanda.  If  she  were  the  prin 
cess,  this  sacrifice  that  is  practised  without  a  protest 
throughout  the  world  had  come  home  to  me,  for 
Yolanda  had  nestled  in  my  heart.  That  she,  the 
gentle,  the  tender,  the  passionate,  the  sensitive, 
should  be  the  victim  of  this  legalized  crime ;  that 
she,  innocent  of  all  fault,  save  that  she  had  been  born 
a  girl,  should  be  condemned  to  misery  because  the 
laws  of  chivalry  and  the  laws  of  God,  distorted  by  men 
to  suit  their  purposes,  declared  her  to  be  the  chattel 
of  her  father,  moved  me  as  I  was  never  moved  before. 
My  sympathy  for  this  rare,  sweet  girl,  so  capable  of  joy, 
so  susceptible  to  pain,  almost  brought  tears  to  my 
eyes ;  for  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  she  was  the 
suffering  princess. 

When  the  courtiers  had  left  the  great  hall  Hymber- 
court,  Max,  and  I  approached  the  duke.  Hymber- 


266  YOLANDA 

court  and  I  made  obeisance  on  bended  knee,  but  Max 
saluted  the  duke  with  a  low  bow.  After  the  duke 
had  spoken,  Max  said  :  — 

"  I  hope  Your  Grace  has  not  forgotten  your  promise 
to  honor  me  by  accepting  the  falcon  you  admired 
yesterday." 

"  I  have  not,  my  unknown  friend,"  answered  the 
duke. 

Max  took  the  bird  from  Michael  and  offered  it  to 
Charles,  who  accepted  the  gift  graciously.  I  looked 
toward  Hymbercourt  and  he,  understanding  my  un 
spoken  word,  again  bent  his  knee  before  the  duke :  — 

"  My  gracious  lord,  it  is  the  desire  of  this  young 
knight  that  he  be  presented  to  you  in  due  form  under 
his  own  name  and  title,  though  he  would  humbly  ask 
that  he  be  permitted  to  retain  the  name  by  which 
he  is  known  in  Burgundy.  His  reasons  for  so  doing 
are  good,  though  they  would  not  interest  Your  Grace. 
Have  I  my  lord's  permission  to  present  him  ?  " 

"  In  God's  name,  yes  ! "  exclaimed  the  duke,  stirred 
by  some  irritation,  but  spurred  by  curiosity. 

"  My  lord,"  said  Hymbercourt,  speaking  to  the 
duke  and  extending  his  hand  toward  Max,  "it  is 
my  great  honor  to  present  to  Your  Grace  his  high 
ness,  Maximilian,  Count  of  Hapsburg." 

"By  the  just  God,  my  lord,  you  certainly  have 
given  us  a  surprise,"  said  the  duke,  stepping  back 
and  making  no  offer  of  his  hand  to  Max.  He  passed 


A   BATTLE  IN  MID  AIR  267 

the  falcon  to  a  page,  and  continued,  "  What  business 
have  these  men  at  my  court  ?  " 

"  None,  Your  Grace,  absolutely  none,"  answered 
Max,  standing  proudly  before  the  duke  and  stead 
fastly  meeting  his  gaze.  "  It  was  my  desire  to  see  the 
world  and  to  learn  something  of  its  people  before  I 
undertook  to  govern  my  own.  My  country  is  not 
rich  and  fat  like  this  great  land  of  Burgundy.  I  have 
neither  the  means  nor  the  inclination  to  travel  in  state  ; 
so  my  dear  friend  and  instructor,  Sir  Karl  de  Pitti, 
undertook  to  guide  me  and  teach  me  in  this  journey 
to  the  outer  world.  I  would  rather  have  missed  see 
ing  all  other  countries  than  Burgundy,  and  of  all 
the  princes  of  the  world  Your  Grace  was  and  is  to 
me  the  most  interesting.  Your  hand  is  the  strongest, 
your  courage  the  bravest,  and  your  land  the  richest 
in  Europe.  We  heard  at  Metz  that  you  were  here  in 
Peronne ;  and  now,  my  lord,  you  understand  what 
business  I  have  in  Burgundy." 

I  had  never  given  the  boy  credit  for  so  much 
adroitness.  What  the  duke's  intentions  were,  imme 
diately  after  Hymbercourt  presented  Max,  I  could  not 
have  told,  but  his  words  sounded  ominous,  and  the 
expression  of  his  face  was  anything  but  pleasant. 
Max,  though  not  quarrelsome,  was  not  given  to  the 
soft  answer  that  turneth  away  wrath ;  but  on  this 
occasion  discretion  came  to  his  rescue,  and  he  made 
the  soft  answer  with  a  dignity  and  boldness  that 


268  YOLANDA 

won  Charles's  respect.  The  duke's  face  softened 
into  a  half-smile,  —  if  anything  so  hard  as  his  face 
can  be  said  to  soften,  —  and  he  offered  his  hand  to 
Max.  He  withdrew  it  almost  instantly  from  Max's 
grasp,  and  said  :  — 

"  Are  you  sure  my  armament  against  Switzerland 
is  no  part  of  the  reason  for  your  presence  in  Bur 
gundy  ? "  Like  all  highly  pugnacious  men,  he  was 
suspicious.  "  I  have  been  told  your  father  is  a  friend 
to  the  Swiss." 

"  Does  Your  Grace  mean  to  ask  if  I  am  here  in  the 
capacity  of  a  spy,  as  Calli  has  charged  ?  "  asked  Max, 
lifting  his  head  and  looking  boldly  into  the  duke's 
face. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  duke,  hesitatingly.  "  I 
do  not  say  you  are.  I  do  not  think  you  are,  but  —  " 

"  I  am  glad  Your  Grace  does  not  think  we  are 
spies,  and  am  pleased  to  believe  that  you  would 
not  put  so  great  an  insult  upon  us,"  answered  Max, 
"else  we  should  ask  permission  to  leave  Burgundy 
at  once.  I  am  sure  my  lord  knows  we  are  not 
spies.  If  Your  Lordship  had  a  son,  would  you 
send  him  forth  as  a  spy  for  the  sake  of  Burgundy  ? 
Much  less  would  you  do  it  for  another  land.  Your 
Grace  is  misinformed.  My  father  is  not  a  friend 
to  the  Swiss ;  neither  does  he  hate  them,  though 
perhaps  he  has  better  cause  to  do  so  than  has  Your 
Grace.  Your  quarrel  with  the  Swiss  is  over  a  few 


A   BATTLE  IN  MID   AIK  269 

cart-loads  of  sheepskins.  These  same  Swiss  took 
from  my  father  our  ancient  homestead,  the  old 
Castle  of  Hapsburg,  and  the  surrounding  territory 
of  Aargau." 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  spoliation,  and  have  often 
wondered  at  your  father's  meek  submission,"  said 
the  duke,  with  an  almost  imperceptible  sneer.  Like 
Richard  the  Lion-hearted,  of  England,  butchery  was 
this  duke's  trade,  and  he  despised  a  man  who  did 
not  practise  it  on  all  possible  occasions.  A  pretext 
for  a  quarrel  is  balm  to  the  soul  of  a  hero. 

"  The  mountains  of  Switzerland,  my  lord,  are  the 
graveyard  of  foreign  soldiers,"  Max  replied.  "  Old 
Hapsburg  Castle  is  a  mere  hawks'  crag,  as  its  name 
implies,  and  the  half-score  of  mountain  peaks  my 
father  lost  with  it  are  not  worth  the  life  of  his 
humblest  subject.  He  loves  his  people,  and  would 
not  shed  their  blood  to  soothe  his  wounded  pride. 
The  man  who  makes  war  should  fight  in  the  front 
rank." 

"There  is  where  I  fight,  young  sir,"  returned 
Charles. 

"  The  world  knows  that  fact,  my  lord,"  responded 
Max.  "My  father  cannot  fight  at  the  head  of  his 
army,  therefore,  he  makes  war  only  in  defence  of 
his  people's  hearths.  It  is  possible  that  after  con 
sulting  with  my  friend,  Sir  Karl,  I  may  ask  the 
honor  of  serving  with  Your  Grace  against  these 


270  YOLANDA 

Swiss  who  despoiled  my  house.  Is  Your  Grace  now 
satisfied  that  we  are  not  Swiss  spies  ?  And  are  we 
welcome  to  sojourn  for  a  time  in  Peronne  ?  Or  shall 
we  leave  Burgundy  and  return  to  my  father  in 
Styria,  to  tell  him  that  you  turned  a  guest  and  a 
friend  from  your  door  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  welcome,  Sir  Count,  and  you,  Sir 
Karl,"  answered  the  duke,  giving  his  right  hand  to 
Max  and  familiarly  offering  me  his  left.  This  hard 
duke  had  been  beaten  into  a  gracious  mood  by  Max's 
adroit  mixture  of  flattery  and  boldness. 

A  soft  answer  may  turn  away  wrath,  but  it  may 
also  involve  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  turning  the 
other  cheek.  If  it  be  not  tempered  by  spirit,  it  is  apt 
to  arouse  contempt.  The  duke  remained  silent  for 
the  space  of  a  minute  or  two.  He  was  evidently 
struggling  to  suppress  a  good  impulse.  Then  he 
turned  to  me  and  said,  laughingly ;  — - 

"  By  my  soul,  Sir  Karl,  you  have  brought  us  a 
Roland  and  a  Demosthenes  in  one.  Where  learned 
you  your  oratory,  Sir  Count  ?  " 

"From  a  just  cause,  my  lord,"  quickly  retorted 
Max. 

"  I  fear  I  have  had  the  worst  of  this  encounter, 
Hymbercourt,"  said  the  duke,  smiling,  "and  I  see 
nothing  left  for  me  but  apology." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  Your  Grace  will  not  embarrass 
us  by  apologizing,"  said  Max. 


A  BATTLE  IK  MID  AIR  271 

Charles  hesitated,  gave  a  short  laugh,  and  apolo 
gized  by  placing  his  hand  on  Max's  shoulder. 

"Let  us  go  into  the  little  parley  room,"  he  said. 
"  Hymbercourt,  lead  the  way  with  Sir  Max ;  Sir 
Karl  and  I  will  follow  presently." 

Max  and  Hymbercourt  passed  out  at  a  small  door 
near  the  throne,  and  the  duke  turned  to  me :  — 

"  I  like  the  boy's  modest  boldness,  and  I  hope  that 
I  may  induce  him  and  you  to  accompany  me  against 
the  Swiss.  I  would  not  accept  his  offer  made  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  but  if,  on  talking  it  over  with  him, 
you  make  up  your  minds  to  come  with  me,  I  will 
make  it  well  worth  your  while.  This  war  will  be 
but  a  May-day  outing.  We'll  speak  on  the  subject 
again.  Meantime,  I  understand  that  you  and  Sir 
Max  wish  to  remain  incognito  at  Peronne  ? " 

« We  do,  Your  Grace,"  I  responded.  « I  fear  it 
will  be  impossible  to  accept  the  honor  you  have 
offered,  but,  as  you  have  graciously  said,  we  will,  if 
you  wish,  speak  of  it  again." 

"  I  am  content,"  said  the  duke.  "  Let  us  follow 
Hymbercourt." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

SIB    KABL    MEETS    THE    PBINCESS 

duke  and  I  passed  through  the  door  by  which 
I  Max  and  Hymbercourt  had  left  the  hall,  and  en 
tered  a  narrow  passageway  eight  or  ten  yards  long, 
having  two  doors  at  the  farther  end.  The  door  to 
the  right,  I  soon  learned,  led  to  the  little  parley  room 
where  Max  and  Hymbercourt  had  gone.  The  door  to 
the  left  opened  into  a  staircase  that  led  to  the  apart 
ments  of  the  duchess.  A  narrow  flight  of  stone  steps 
that  led  from  the  ladies'  gallery  opened  into  the 
passage,  and,  just  as  the  duke  entered  in  advance  of 
me,  two  ladies  emerged  from  the  stairs.  They  did 
not  see  me  in  the  shadow,  and  supposed  that  the  duke 
was  alone.  The  taller,  who  I  soon  learned  was  the 
duchess,  hastened  down  the  passage  and  through  the 
door  leading  to  her  apartments.  The  smaller  I  at 
once  recognized.  She  was  Yolanda. 

"  Father,  you  cannot  mean  to  send  me  into  France," 
she  cried,  trying  to  detain  the  duke.  «  Kill  me,  father, 
if  you  will,  but  do  not  send  me  to  that  hated  land. 
I  shall  not  survive  this  marriage  a  fortnight,  and  if  I 
die,  Burgundy  will  go  to  our  cousin  of  Bourbon." 

272 


SIR  KARL  MEETS   THE  PRINCESS  273 

« Don't  hinder  me,  daughter,"  returned  the  duke, 
impatiently.  "  Don't  you  see  we  are  not  alone  ?  " 

Yolanda  turned  in  surprise  toward  me,  and  the 
duke  said :  — 

"  Go  by  the  right  door,  Sir  Karl.  I  will  be  with 
you  at  once.  I  wish  to  speak  with  the  duchess." 

He  hurriedly  followed  his  wife  and  left  me  alone 
with  Yolanda. 

"  Fraulein,  my  intrusion  was  unintentional,"  I 
stammered.  "  I  followed  the  duke  at  his  request." 

"  Fraulein ! "  exclaimed  the  girl,  lifting  her  head 
and  looking  a  very  queen  in  miniature.  "  Fraulein ! 
Do  you  know,  sir,  to  whom  you  speak  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  most  gracious  princess^"  I  re 
plied.  «  Did  you  not  command  me  to  address  you 
as  Fraulein  or  Yolanda  ?  " 

"  My  name,  sir,  is  not  Yolanda.  You  have  made  a 
sad  mistake,"  said  the  princess,  drawing  herself  up  to 
her  full  height.  Then  I  thought  of  Yolanda's  words 
when  she  told  me  that  she  resembled  the  princess  as 
one  pea  resembles  another. 

The  girl  trembled,  and  even  in  the  dim  light  I 
could  see  the  gleam  of  anger  in  her  eyes.  I  was 
endeavoring  to  frame  a  suitable  apology  when  she 
spoke  again  :  — 

"  Fraulein  !  Yolanda  !  Sir,  your  courtesy  is  scant 
to  give  me  these  names.  I  do  not  know  you,  and  — 
did  I  not  tell  you  that  if  you  made  this  mistake  with 


274  YOLANDA 

the  princess  you  would  not  so  easily  correct  it  ?  That 
I  —  you  —  Blessed  Virgin  !  I  have  betrayed  myself. 
I  knew  I  should.  I  knew  I  could  not  carry  it  out." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  began  to 
weep,  speaking  while  she  sobbed :  — 

"  My  troubles  are  more  than  I  can  bear." 

I  wished  to  reassure  her  at  once  :  — 

"  Most  Gracious  Princess  —  Yolanda  —  your  secret 
is  safe  with  me.  You  are  as  dear  to  me  as  if  you 
were  my  child.  You  have  nestled  in  my  heart  and 
filled  it  as  completely  as  one  human  being  can  fill  the 
heart  of  another.  I  would  gladly  give  my  poor  old 
life  to  make  you  happy.  Now  if  you  can  make  use 
of  rne,  I  am  at  your  service." 

"  You  will  not  tell  Sir  Max  ?  "  she  sobbed. 

She  was  no  longer  a  princess.  She  was  the  child 
Yolanda. 

"  As  I  hope  for  salvation,  no,  I  will  not  tell  Sir 
Max,"  I  responded. 

"  Sometime  I  will  give  you  my  reasons,"  she  said. 

"  I  wish  none,"  I  replied. 

After  a  short  pause,  she  went  on,  still  weeping 
gently  :  — 

"  If  I  must  go  to  France,  Sir  Karl,  you  may  come 
there  to  be  my  Lord  Chamberlain.  Perhaps  Max 
should  not  come,  since  I  shall  be  the  wife  of  another, 
and —  and  there  would  surely  be  trouble.  Max  should 
not  come." 


SIR  KARL   MEETS  THE  PRINCESS  275 

She  stepped  quickly  to  my  side.  Her  hand  fell,  and 
she  grasped  mine  for  an  instant  under  the  folds  of  her 
cloak ;  then  she  ran  from  the  passage,  and  I  went  to 
the  room  where  Max  and  Hymbercourt  were  waiting. 

After  a  few  moments  the  duke  joined  us.  Wine  was 
served,  but  Charles  did  not  drink.  On  account  of  the 
excessive  natural  heat  of  his  blood  he  drank  nothing 
but  water.  His  Grace  was  restless ;  and,  although 
there  was  no  lack  of  courtesy,  I  fancied  he  did  not 
wish  us  to  remain.  So  after  our  cups  were  emptied  I 
asked  permission  to  depart.  The  duke  acquiesced  by 
rising,  and  said,  turning  to  Max  :  — 

« May  we  not  try  our  new  hawk  together  this 
afternoon  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,  Your  Grace,"  responded  Max. 

«  Then  we'll  meet  at  Cambrai  Gate  near  the  hour 
of  two,"  said  the  duke. 

« I  thank  Your  Grace,"  said  Max,  bowing. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  inn,  I  told  Max  of  my 
meeting  with  the  princess,  and  remarked  upon  her 
resemblance  to  Yolanda. 

"  You  imagined  the  resemblance,  Karl.  There  can 
be  but  one  Yolanda  in  the  world,"  said  Max.  "  Her 
Highness,  perhaps,  is  of  Yolanda's  complexion  and 
stature,  —  so  Yolanda  has  told  me,  —  and  your  imagi 
nation  has  furnished  the  rest." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  true,"  said  I,  fearing  that  I  had 
already  spoken  too  freely. 


276  YOLANDA 

So  my  great  riddle  was  at  last  solved  !  The  Fates 
had  answered  when  I  "  gave  it  up."  I  was  so 
athrill  with  the  sweet  assurance  that  Yolanda  was 
the  princess  that  I  feared  my  secret  would  leap  from 
my  eyes  or  spring  unbidden  from  my  lips. 

I  cast  about  in  my  mind  for  Yolanda's  reasons  in 
wishing  to  remain  Yolanda  to  Max,  and  I  could  find 
none  save  the  desire  to  win  his  heart  as  a  burgher 
girl.  That,  indeed,  would  be  a  triumph.  She  knew 
that  every  marriageable  prince  in  Europe  coveted  her 
wealth  and  her  estates.  The  most  natural  desire 
that  she  or  any  girl  could  have  would  be  to  find  a 
worthy  man  who  would  seek  her  for  her  own  sake. 
As  Yolanda,  she  offered  no  inducement  save  herself. 
The  girl  wras  playing  a  daring  game,  and  a  wise  one. 

True,  there  appeared  to  be  no  possibility  that  she 
could  ever  have  Max  for  her  husband,  even  should  she 
win  his  heart  as  Yolanda.  In  view  of  the  impend 
ing  and  apparently  unavoidable  French  marriage,  the 
future  held  no  hope.  But  when  her  day  of  wretch 
edness  should  come,  she  would,  through  all  her  life, 
take  comfort  from  the  sweetest  joy  a  woman  can 
know  —  that  the  man  she  loved  loved  her  because  she 
was  her  own  fair  self,  and  for  no  other  reason.  There 
would,  of  course,  be  the  sorrow  of  regret,  but  that 
is  passive,  while  the  joy  of  memory  is  ever  active. 

When  Max  and  I  had  departed,  the  duke  turned 
to  Hymbercourt  and  said  :  — 


SIR  KARL   MEETS   THE  PRINCESS  277 

"  The  bishop's  letter  is  not  sufficiently  direct.  It 
is  my  desire  to  inform  King  Louis  that  this  marriage 
shall  take  place  at  once  —  now  !  Now !  It  will 
effectually  keep  Louis  from  allying  with  Bourbon 
and  Lorraine,  or  some  other  prince,  while  I  am 
away  from  home.  They  all  hate  me,  but  not  one 
of  the  cowards  would  say  '  Booh ! '  unless  the 
others  were  back  of  him.  A  word  from  Louis 
would  kindle  rebellion  in  Liege  and  Ghent.  This 
war  with  Switzerland  is  what  Louis  has  waited  for ; 
and  when  I  march  to  the  south,  he  will  march  into 
Burgundy  from  the  west  unless  he  has  a  counter 
motive." 

"  That  is  but  too  true,  my  lord,"  said  Hymbercourt. 

«  But  if  my  daughter  marries  the  Dauphin,  Louis 
will  look  upon  Burgundy  as  the  property  of  the 
French  kingship  in  the  end,  and  the  marriage  will 
frighten  Bourbon  and  Lorraine  to  our  feet  once 
more.  This  hypocrite,  Louis,  has  concocted  a  fine 
scheme  to  absorb  Burgundy  into  his  realm  by  this 
marriage  with  my  daughter.  But  I'll  disappoint 
his  greed.  I'll  whisper  a  secret  in  your  ear,  Hym 
bercourt,  —  a  secret  to  be  told  to  no  one  else. 
I'll  execute  this  treaty  of  marriage  now,  and  will 
use  my  crafty  foe  for  my  own  purposes  so  long 
as  I  need  him ;  but  when  I  return  from  Switzerland, 
I  will  divorce  my  present  duchess  and  take  a 
fruitful  wife  who  will  bear  me  a  son  to  inherit 


278  YOLANDA 

Burgundy ;  then  King  Louis  may  keep  the  girl  for 
his  pains." 

The  duke  laughed,  and  seemed  to  feel  that  he 
was  perpetrating  a  great  joke  on  his  rival. 

"  But  your  brother-in-law,  Edward  of  England, 
may  object  to  having  his  sister  divorced,"  sug 
gested  Hymbercourt. 

"  In  that  case  we'll  take  a  page  from  King  Louis' 
book,"  answered  Charles.  "  We'll  use  gold,  Hymber 
court,  gold !  I  shall  not,  however,  like  Louis,  buy 
Edward's  ministers  !  They  are  too  expensive.  I'll 
put  none  of  my  gold  in  Hastings's  sleeve.  I'll  pen 
sion  Shore's  wife,  and  Edward  will  not  trouble  him 
self  about  his  sister.  He  prefers  other  men's  sisters. 
Do  not  fear,  Hymbercourt ;  the  time  has  come  to 
meet  Louis'  craft  with  craft." 

"And  Your  Grace's  unhappy  daughter  is  to  be  the 
shuttlecock,  my  lord  ?  "  suggested  Hymbercourt. 

« She  will  serve  her  purpose  in  the  weal  of  Bur 
gundy,  as  I  do.  I  give  my  life  to  Burgundy.  Why 
should  not  this  daughter  of  mine  give  a  few  tears  ? 
But  her  tears  are  unreasonable.  Why  should  she 
object  to  this  marriage  ?  Even  though  God  should 
hereafter  give  me  a  son,  who  should  cut  the  princess 
out  of  Burgundy,  will  she  not  be  queen  of  France  ? 
What  more  would  the  perverse  girl  have  ?  By  God, 
Hymbercourt,  it  makes  my  blood  boil  to  hear  you,  a 
man  of  sound  reason,  talk  like  a  fool.  I  hear  the  same 


SIR  KAEL   MEETS  THE  PRINCESS  279 

maudlin  protest  from  the  duchess.  She,  too,  is  under 
the  spell  of  this  girl,  and  mourns  over  her  trumped-up 
grief  like  a  parish  priest  at  a  bishop's  funeral." 

"  But,  my  lord,  consider  the  creature  your  daughter 
is  to  marry,"  said  Hymbercourt.  "  He  is  but  a  child, 
less  than  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  is  weak  in  mind 
and  body.  Surely,  it  is  a  wretched  fate  for  your 
daughter." 

"  I  tell  you  the  girl  is  perverse,"  interrupted  the 
duke.  «  She  would  raise  a  storm  were  the  Dauphin  a 
paragon  of  manliness.  He  is  a  poor,  mean  wretch, 
whom  she  may  easily  rule.  His  weakness  will  be  her 
advantage.  She  is  strong  enough,  God  knows,  and 
wilful  enough  to  face  down  the  devil  himself.  If 
there  is  a  perverse  wench  on  all  the  earth,  who  will 
always  have  her  own  way  by  hook  or  by  crook,  it  is 
this  troublesome  daughter  of  mine.  She  has  the 
duchess  wound  around  her  finger.  I  could  not  live 
with  them  at  Ghent,  and  sent  them  here  for  the  sake 
of  peace.  When  she  is  queen  of  France  she  will  also 
be  king  of  that  realm  —  and  in  God's  name  what  more 
could  the  girl  ask  ?  " 

"  But,  my  lord,  let  me  beg  you  to  consider  well 
this  step  before  you  take  it.  I  am  sure  evil  will  come 
of  it,"  pleaded  Hymbercourt. 

"  I  have  considered,"  answered  the  duke.  "  Let  me 
hear  no  more  of  this  rubbish.  Two  women  dinning 
it  into  my  ears  morning,  noon,  and  night  are  quite 


280  YOLANDA 

enough  for  my  peace  of  mind.  I  hear  constantly, 
'  Dear  father,  don't  kill  me.  Spare  your  daughter,' 
and  <  Dear  my  lord,  I  beg  you  not  to  sacrifice  the 
princess,  whom  I  so  love.'  God's  mercy  !  I  say  I  am 
tired  of  it!  This  marriage  shall  take  place  at  once! 
Now,  now,  now,  do  you  hear,  Hymbercourt  ?  Tell 
the  bishop  to  write  this  letter  in  English.  We  will 
make  the  draught  as  bitter  as  possible  for  Louis.  He 
hates  the  sight  of  an  English  word,  and  small  wonder. 
Direct  the  bishop  to  make  the  letter  short  and  to  the 
point.  Tell  him  to  say  the  marriage  shall  take  place 
now.  Have  him  use  the  word  now.  Do  you  under 
stand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  answered  Hymbercourt. 

"  Order  him  to  fetch  the  missive  immediately  to 
the  apartments  of  the  duchess.  It  shall  be  read, 
signed,  and  despatched  in  the  presence  of  my  daughter 
and  my  wife,  so  that  they  may  know  what  they  have 
to  expect.  I'll  see  that  I'm  bothered  no  more  with 
their  tears  and  their  senseless  importunities." 

"  I'll  carry  out  your  instructions,"  said  Hymber 
court,  bowing  and  taking  his  leave. 

The  duke  went  to  his  wife's  parlor  and  fell  moodily 
into  a  chair.  The  duchess  was  sitting  on  a  divan, 
and  the  princess  was  weeping  in  her  arms.  After  a 
long  silence,  broken  only  by  Mary's  half -smothered 
sobs,  the  duke  turned  sharply  upon  the  women :  — 

«  For  the  love  of  God,  cease  your  miserable  whim- 


SIR  KARL  MEETS  THE  PRINCESS          281 

pering,"  growled  his  lordship.  "  Is  not  my  life  full 
of  vexations  without  this  deluge  of  tears  at  home  ? 
A  whimpering  woman  will  do  more  to  wear  out  the 
life  of  a  man  than  a  score  of  battling  enemies. 
Silence,  I  say  ;  silence,  you  fools !  " 

Mary  and  the  duchess  were  now  unable  to  control 
themselves.  Charles  rose  angrily  and,  with  his 
clenched  hand  raised  for  a  blow,  strode  across  the 
room  to  the  unhappy  women.  Clinging  to  each  other, 
the  princess  and  Duchess  Margaret  crouched  low 
on  the  divan.  Then  this  great  hero,  whom  the  world 
worships  and  calls  «  The  Bold,"  bent  over  the  trem 
bling  women  and  upbraided  them  in  language  that  I 
will  not  write. 

"  God  curse  me  if  I  will  have  my  life  made  miser 
able  by  a  pair  of  fools,"  cried  the  duke.  "  I  am 
wretched  enough  without  this  useless  annoyance. 
Enemies  abroad  and  disobedience  in  my  own  family 
will  drive  me  mad  ! " 

The  women  slipped  from  the  divan  to  the  floor  at 
the  duke's  feet,  and  clung  to  each  other.  The  duchess 
covered  the  princess  to  protect  her  from  the  duke's 
blow,  and,  alas !  took  it  herself.  Charles  stepped 
back,  intending  to  kick  his  daughter,  but  the  duchess 
again  threw  herself  on  Yolanda  and  again  received 
the  blow.  By  that  time  the  duke's  fury  was  beyond 
all  measure,  and  he  stooped  to  drag  his  wife  from 
Yolanda  that  he  might  vent  his  wrath  upon  the  sob- 


282  YOLANDA 

bing  girl.  The  duchess,  who  was  a  young,  strong 
woman,  sprang  to  her  feet  and  placed  herself  be 
tween  Yolanda,  lying  on  the  floor,  and  the  infuriated 
duke. 

"  You  shall  not  touch  the  child,  my  lord ! "  cried 
the  duchess.  "  Though  she  is  your  child,  you  shall 
not  touch  her  if  I  can  help  it.  Twice,  my  lord, 
you  have  almost  killed  your  daughter  in  your 
anger,  and  I  have  sworn  to  prevent  a  recurrence  of 
your  brutality  or  to  die  in  my  attempt  to  save 
her." 

She  snatched  a  dagger  from  her  bosom,  and 
spoke  calmly  :  "  Now  come,  my  lord ;  but  when  you 
do  so,  draw  your  dagger,  for,  by  the  Virgin,  I  will 
kill  you  if  you  do  not  kill  me,  before  you  shall  touch 
that  girl.  Before  you  kill  me,  my  lord,  remember 
that  my  brother  of  England  will  tear  you  limb  from 
limb  for  the  crime,  and  that  King  Louis  will  gladly 
help  him  in  the  task.  Come,  my  husband !  Come,  my 
brave  lord !  I  am  but  a  weak  woman.  You  may 
easily  kill  me,  and  I  will  welcome  death  rather  than 
life  with  you.  When  I  am  out  of  the  way,  you  may 
work  your  will  on  your  daughter.  Because  I  am 
your  wife,  my  brother  has  twice  saved  you  from 
King  Louis.  You  owe  your  domain  and  your  life  to 
me.  I  should  sell  my  life  at  a  glorious  price  if  my 
death  purchased  your  ruin.  Come,  my  lord  ! " 

The  duke  paused  with  his  hand  on  his  dagger; 


SIR  KARL  MEETS   THE  PRINCESS  283 

but  he  knew  that  his  wife's  words  were  true,  and  he 
realized  that  his  ruin  would  follow  quickly  on  the 
heels  of  her  death. 

"You  complain  that  the  world  and  your  own 
family  are  against  you,  my  lord,"  said  the  duchess. 
"  It  is  because  you  are  a  cruel  tyrant  abroad  and  at 
home.  It  is  because  you  are  against  the  world  and 
against  those  whom  you  should  protect  and  keep  safe 
from  evil.  The  fault  is  with  you,  Charles  of  Bur 
gundy.  You  have  spoken  the  truth.  The  world  hates 
you,  and  this  girl  —  the  tenderest,  most  loving  heart 
on  earth  —  dreads  you  as  her  most  relentless  enemy. 
If  I  were  in  your  place,  my  lord,  I  would  fall  upon 
my  sword." 

Beaten  by  his  wife's  just  fury,  this  great  war  hero 
walked  back  to  his  chair,  and  the  duchess  tenderly 
lifted  Mary  to  the  divan. 

"  He  will  not  strike  you,  child,"  said  Margaret. 
Then  she  fell  to  kissing  Yolanda  passionately,  and 
tears  came  to  her  relief. 

Poor  Yolanda  buried  her  face  in  her  mother's 
breast  and  tried  to  smother  her  sobs.  Charles  sat 
mumbling  blasphemous  oaths.  At  the  expiration 
of  half  an  hour,  a  page  announced  the  Bishop  of 
Cambrai  and  other  gentlemen.  The  duke  signified 
that  they  were  to  be  admitted ;  and  when  the  bishop 
entered  the  room,  Charles,  who  was  smarting  from 
his  late  defeat,  spoke  angrily  :  — 


284  YOLANDA 

"  By  the  good  God,  my  Lord  Bishop,  you  are  slow ! 
Does  it  require  an  hour  to  write  a  missive  of  ten 
lines?  If  you  are  as  slow  in  saving  souls  as  in 
writing  letters,  the  world  will  go  to  hell  before  you 
can  say  a  mass." 

"The  wording  was  difficult,  Your  Grace,"  replied 
the  bishop  obsequiously.  "  The  Lord  d'Hymbercourt 
said  Your  Grace  wished  the  missive  to  be  written 
in  English,  which  language  my  scrivener  knows  but 
imperfectly.  After  it  was  written  I  received  Your 
Lordship's  instructions  to  use  the  word  'now,'  so 
I  caused  the  letter  to  be  rewritten  that  I  might 
comply  with  your  wishes." 

"  Now "  is  a  small  word,  but  in  this  instance  it 
was  a  great  one  for  Yolanda,  as  you  shall  soon  learn. 

"  Cease  explaining,  my  Lord  Bishop,  and  read  me 
the  missive,"  said  the  duke,  sullenly. 

The  bishop  unfolded  the  missive,  which  was  in  a 
pouch  ready  for  sealing.  Yolanda  stopped  sobbing 
that  she  might  hear  the  document  that  touched  so 
closely  on  her  fate.  Her  tear-stained  face,  with  its 
childlike  pathos,  but  served  to  increase  her  father's 
anger. 

"  Read,  my  Lord  Bishop  !  Body  of  me,  why  stand 
you  there  like  a  wooden  quintain  ? "  exclaimed  the 
duke.  "  By  all  the  gods,  you  are  slow !  Read,  I 
say!" 

"  With  pleasure,  my  lord,"  answered  the  bishop. 


SIR  KAEL  MEETS   THE   PRINCESS  285 

"To  His  Majesty,  King  Louis  of  France,  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy 
and  Count  of  Oharolois,  sends  this  Greeting :  — 

"  His  Grace  of  Burgundy  would  recommend  himself  to  His  Majesty 
of  Prance,  and  would  beg  to  inform  the  most  puissant  King  Louis  that 
the  said  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  will  march  at  the  head  of  a  Bur- 
gundian  army  within  three  weeks  from  the  date  of  these  presents, 
against  the  Swiss  cantons,  with  intent  to  punish  the  said  Swiss  for 
certain  depredations.  Therefore,  the  said  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy 
and  Count  of  Oharolois,  begs  that  His  Majesty  of  Prance  will  now  move 
toward  the  immediate  consummation  of  the  treaty  existing  between 
Burgundy  and  France,  looking  to  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Mary, 
Mademoiselle  de  Burgundy,  with  the  princely  Dauphin,  son  to  King 
Louis  ;  and  to  these  presents  said  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  requests 
the  honor  of  an  early  reply. 

"  We  recommend  Your  Majesty  to  the  protection  of  God,  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  and  the  Saints," 

"  Words,  words,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  said  Charles. 
"  Why  waste  them  on  a  graceless  hypocrite  ?  " 

"I  thought  only  to  be  courteous,"  returned  the 
bishop. 

"  Why  should  we  show  King  Louis  courtesy  ? " 
asked  the  duke.  "  Is  it  because  we  give  him  our 
daughter  to  be  the  wife  of  his  bandy-shanked,  half 
witted  son  ?  There  is  small  need  for  courtesy,  my 
Lord  Bishop.  We  could  not  insult  this  King  Louis, 
should  we  try,  while  he  sees  an  advantage  to  be 
gained.  Give  me  the  letter,  and  I  will  sign  it,  though 
I  despise  your  whimpering  courtesy,  as  you  call  it." 

Charles  took  the  letter,  and,  going  to  a  table  near 
a  window,  drew  up  a  chair. 


286  YOLANDA 

"  Give  me  a  quill,"  he  said,  addressing  the  bishop. 
"  Did  you  not  bring  one,  my  lord  ?  " 

"Your  Grace  —  Your  Grace,"  began  the  bishop, 
apologetically. 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  a  snivelling  scrivener,  carrying 
quill  and  ink-well  in  my  gown  ? "  asked  the  duke. 
"  Go  to  your  parlor  and  fetch  ink  and  quill,"  said 
Charles,  pointing  with  the  folded  missive  toward 
Yolanda. 

"A  page  will  fetch  the  quill  and  ink,  my  lord," 
suggested  the  duchess. 

"  Go ! "  cried  the  duke,  turning  angrily  on  the  prin 
cess.  Yolanda  left  the  room,  weeping,  and  hastened 
up  the  long  flight  of  steps  to  her  parlor.  It  was  the 
refinement  of  cruelty  in  Charles  to  send  Yolanda  for 
the  quill  with  which  he  was  to  sign  the  instrument 
of  her  doom. 

Still  weeping,  Yolanda  hurried  back  with  the  writ 
ing  materials,  but  before  entering  the  room  she 
stopped  at  the  door  to  dry  her  tears  and  stay  her 
sobs.  When  she  entered,  she  said :  — 

"  There  is  the  quill,  father,  and  there  is  the  ink." 

She  placed  them  before  the  duke  and  stood  trem 
bling  with  one  hand  on  the  table.  After  a  moment 
she  spoke  in  a  voice  little  above  a  whisper :  — 

"  You  will  accomplish  nothing,  my  lord,  my  father, 
by  sending  the  letter.  I  shall  die  before  this  mar 
riage  can  take  place.  I  am  willing  to  obey  you,  but, 
father,  I  shall  die.  Ah,  father,  pity  me." 


SIK   KARL  MEETS   THE  PRINCESS  287 

She  fell  upon  her  knees  before  the  duke  and  tried 
to  put  her  hands  about  his  shoulders.  He  repulsed 
her,  and,  taking  up  the  quill,  signed  the  letter.  After 
he  had  affixed  his  signature  and  had  sealed  the  mis 
sive  with  his  private  seal,  he  folded  the  parchment 
and  handed  it  to  the  bishop,  saying :  — 

"  Seal  the  pouch,  my  lord,  and  send  Byron,  the 
herald,  here  to  receive  our  personal  instructions." 

"  The  herald  has  not  yet  returned  from  Cambrai, 
my  lord,"  said  De  Vergy,  who  stood  near  by.  "  He 
is  expected  between  the  hours  of  five  and  six  this 
evening." 

"Leave  the  letter,  my  lord,"  said  Charles,  "and 
send  Byron  to  me  when  he  arrives.  I  shall  be  here 
at  six  o'clock  to  give  him  full  instructions." 

The  letter  was  deposited  in  a  small  iron  box  on 
the  table,  and  the  duke  left  the  room,  followed  closely 
by  the  lords  and  pages. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   CROSSING   OF   A    «TW 

YOLANDA  and  her  stepmother  remained  on  the 
divan  in  silence  for  fully  an  hour  after  the  duke 
had  left.     The  duchess  was  first  to  speak. 

"Be  resigned,  sweet  one,  to  your  fate.  It  is  one 
common  to  women.  It  was  my  hard  fate  to  be  com 
pelled  to  marry  your  father.  It  was  your  mother's, 
poor  woman,  and  it  killed  her.  God  wills  our  slavery, 
and  we  must  submit.  We  but  make  our  fate  harder 
by  fighting  against  it." 

Yolanda  answered  with  convulsive  sobs,  but  after 
a  while  she  grew  more  calm. 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  to  save  myself  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  No,  sweet  one,"  answered  the  duchess. 

"  Has  God  put  a  curse  upon  women,  mother  ? " 
asked  Yolanda. 

"  Alas !  I  fear  He  has,"  answered  Margaret.  "  The 
Holy  Church  teaches  us  that  He  punishes  us  for  the 
sin  of  our  mother  Eve,  but  though  He  punishes  us,  He 
loves  us,  and  we  are  His  children.  He  knows  what  is 
best  for  us  here  and  hereafter." 

288 


THE  CROSSING   OF  A  «T"  289 

"He  certainly  is  looking  to  my  future  good,  if  at 
all,"  sighed  Yolanda.  "  But  I  do  believe  in  God's 
goodness,  mother,  and  I  am  sure  He  will  save  me. 
Holy  Virgin  !  how  helpless  a  woman  is."  She  began 
to  weep  afresh,  and  the  duchess  tried  to  soothe  her. 

"  I  believe  I  will  pray  to  the  Virgin.  She  may 
help  us,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  voice  that  was  plaintively 
childlike. 

"  It  is  a  pious  thought,  Mary,"  answered  the 
duchess. 

Yolanda  slipped  from  the  divan  to  the  floor,  and, 
kneeling,  buried  her  face  in  her  mother's  lap.  She 
prayed  aloud  :  — 

"  Blessed  Virgin,  Thou  seest  my  dire  need.  Help 
me.  My  prayer  is  short,  but  Thou,  Blessed  Lady, 
knowest  how  fervent  it  is."  The  duchess  crossed 
herself,  bowed  her  head,  and  murmured  a  fervent 
"  Amen." 

Yolanda  rose  from  her  prayer  with  a  brighter  face, 
and  exclaimed  almost  joyfully:  — 

"  It  was  impious  in  me  to  doubt  God's  love, 
mother.  I  do  believe  I  heard  the  Blessed  Virgin 
say,  '  Help  is  at  hand.'  At  least,  I  felt  her  words, 
mother." 

Yolanda  moved  about  the  room  aimlessly  for 
several  minutes  and  by  chance  stopped  at  the  table. 
She  started  to  take  up  the  quill  and  ink-well  to  carry 
them  back  to  her  parlor,  which  was  in  Darius 


290  YOLANDA 

(Darius  was  the  name  of  the  tower  that  rose  from 
the  castle  battlements  immediately  above  Castleman's 
House  under  the  Wall),  and  her  eyes  rested  on  the 
small  iron  box  in  which  the  letter  to  King  Louis 
had  been  deposited.  An  unconscious  motive,  perhaps 
it  was  childish  curiosity,  prompted  her  to  examine 
the  missive.  She  took  the  pouch  from  the  box 
and  found  it  unsealed.  She  listlessly  drew  out  the 
missive  and  began  to  read,  when  suddenly  her 
face  grew  radiant  with  joy.  She  ran  excitedly  to 
her  mother,  who  was  sitting  on  the  divan,  and 
exclaimed  :  — 

"  Oh !  mother,  the  sweet  Blessed  Virgin  has  sent 
help ! " 

"  In  what  manner,  child  ? "  asked  the  duchess, 
fondling  Yolanda's  hair  while  the  girl  knelt  beside 
her. 

"  Here,  mother,  here  !  Here  is  help  ;  here  in  this 
very  letter  that  was  intended  to  be  my  undoing.  I 
cannot  wait  to  thank  the  Holy  Mother."  She  crossed 
herself  and  buried  her  face  in  her  mother's  lap  while 
she  thanked  the  Virgin. 

"  What  is  it,  Mary,  and  where  is  the  help  ?  "  asked 
Margaret,  fearing  the  girl's  mind  had  been  touched  by 
her  troubles. 

«  Listen ! "  cried  Yolanda. 

Her  excitement  was  so  great  that  she  could  hardly 
see  the  words  the  bishop's  scrivener  had  written. 


THE  CROSSING  OF  A  "T"  291 

"  Listen,  listen  !  Father  in  this  letter  first  tells  the 
king  that  he  —  that  is,  father,  you  understand  —  is 
going  to  war  with  Lorraine  —  no,  with  Bourbon.  I 
am  wrong  again.  Father  is  so  constantly  warring 
with  some  one  that  I  cannot  keep  track  of  his  ene 
mies  —  against  the  Swiss.  See,  mother,  it  is  the 
Swiss.  He  says  he  will  go  —  will  start  —  will  begin 
the  war  —  no,  I  am  wrong  again.  I  can  hardly  see 
the  words.  He  says  he  will  march  at  the  head  of 
a  Burgundian  army  —  poor  soldiers,  I  pity  them  — 
within  three  weeks.  Ah,  how  short  that  time  seemed 
when  I  heard  the  letter  read  an  hour  ago.  How  long 
it  is  now !  I  wish  he  would  march  to-morrow.  Three 
long  weeks !  " 

"  But,  my  dear,  how  will  that  help  you  ?  "  asked 
the  duchess.  "  In  what  manner  will  —  " 

"  Do  not  interrupt  me,  mother,  but  hear  what 
follows.  Father  says  he  will  march  in  three  weeks 
and  '  begs  that  His  Majesty  of  France  will  now  move 
toward  the  immediate  consummation  of  the  treaty 
existing  between  Burgundy  and  France  looking  to 
the  marriage  of  the  Princess,  Mademoiselle  de  Bur 
gundy,  with  the  princely  Dauphin,  son  to  King  Louis.' 
In  that  word  <  now,'  mother,  lies  my  help." 

"  In  what  manner  does  help  lie  in  the  word  '  now,' 
child  ?  "  asked  the  duchess. 

"  In  this,  mother.  « Now '  is  a  little  word  of  three 
letters,  n-o-v.  See,  mother,  the  letter  <  v '  is  not  per- 


292  YOLAKDA 

fectly  made.  We  will  extend  the  first  prong  up 
ward,  cross  it  and  make  <  t '  of  it,  using  the  second 
prong  as  a  flourish.  Then  the  letter  will  read,  '  begs 
that  His  Majesty  of  France  will  not  move  toward 
the  immediate  consummation  of  the  treaty.'  What 
could  be  more  natural  than  that  my  father  should 
wish  nothing  of  importance  to  occur  until  after  this 
war  with  Switzerland  is  over  ?  The  French  king,  of 
course,  will  answer  that  he  will  not  move  in  the 
matter,  and  his  letter  will  throw  father  into  a  delight 
ful  frenzy  of  rage.  It  may  even  induce  him  to  de 
clare  war  against  France,  and  to  break  off  the  treaty 
of  marriage  when  he  returns  from  Switzerland.  He 
has  often  done  battle  for  a  lesser  cause.  It  will  at 
least  prevent  the  marriage  for  the  present.  It  may 
prevent  it  forever." 

"  Surely  that  cannot  be ;  King  Louis  will  imme 
diately  explain  the  mistake  to  your  father,"  sug 
gested  Margaret. 

"  But  father,  you  know,  will  not  listen  to  an  ex 
planation  if  he  fears  it  may  avert  blows,"  returned 
Yolanda ;  "  and  he  will  be  sure  not  to  believe  King 
Louis  whose  every  word  he  doubts.  I  shall  enjoy 
King  Louis'  efforts  to  explain.  '  Hypocrite,'  <  liar,' 
'coward,'  'villain,'  will  be  among  father's  most  en 
dearing  terms  when  speaking  of  His  Majesty.  If  by 
chance  the  error  of  '  not '  for  '  now '  be  discovered, 
the  Bishop  of  Cambrai  and  father  will  swear  it  is 


THE  CROSSING  OF  A  "T"  293 

King  Louis  who  has  committed  the  forgery.  But 
should  the  worst  come,  our  <  t '  will  have  answered 
its  purpose,  at  least  for  the  present.  The  bishop 
may  suffer,  but  I  care  not.  He  did  his  part  in  bring 
ing  about  this  marriage  treaty,  bribed,  doubtless,  by 
King  Louis'  gold.  In  any  case,  we  have  no  reason 
to  constitute  ourselves  the  bishop's  guardians.  We 
have  all  we  can  do  to  care  for  ourselves  —  and  more." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  danced  about  the  room, 
ardently  kissing  the  letter  she  had  so  recently 
dreaded. 

"  Mary,  you  frighten  me,"  said  the  duchess.  "  If 
we  should  be  discovered  in  changing  this  letter,  I  do 
believe  your  father  would  kill  us.  I  do  not  know 
that  it  would  be  right  to  make  the  alteration.  It 
would  be  forgery,  and  that,  you  know,  is  a  crime 
punishable  by  death." 

"  We  shall  not  be  discovered,"  said  Mary.  "  You 
must  have  no  part  in  this  transaction,  mother. 
Father  would  not  kill  me ;  I  am  too  valuable  as 
a  chattel  of  trade.  With  my  poor  little  self  he  can 
buy  the  good-will  of  kings  and  princes.  I  am  more 
potent  than  all  his  gold.  This  alteration  can  be  no 
sin ;  it  is  self-defence.  Think  how  small  it  is, 
mother.  It  is  only  a  matter  of  the  crossing  of  a  '  t.' 
But  I  care  not  how  great  the  crime  may  be ;  I 
believe,  mother,  I  would  commit  murder  to  save  my 
self  from  the  fate  father  wishes  to  put  upon  me." 


294  YOLANDA 

"  You  frighten  me,  child,"  said  Margaret.  « I 
tremble  in  terror  at  what  you  propose  to  do." 

"I,  too,  am  trembling,  mother,"  sighed  Yolanda, 
"but  you  must  now  leave  the  room.  You  must 
know  nothing  of  this  great  crime." 

The  girl  laughed  nervously  and  tried  to  push  her 
mother  from  the  room. 

«  No,  I  will  remain,"  said  the  duchess.  "  I  almost 
believe  that  you  are  right,  and  that  the  Virgin  has 
prompted  you  to  do  this  to  save  yourself." 

"  I  know  she  has,"  answered  Yolanda,  crossing  her 
self.  "Now  leave  me.  I  must  waste  no  more 
time." 

"  I  will  remain  with  you,  Mary,"  said  Margaret, 
"and  I  will  myself  make  the  alteration.  Then  I'll 
take  all  the  blame  in  case  we  are  discovered." 

Margaret  rose,  walked  over  to  the  table,  and  took 
up  the  quill.  She  trembled  so  violently  that  she 
could  not  control  her  hand. 

"  No,  mother,  you  shall  not  touch  it,"  cried 
Yolanda,  snatching  the  parchment  from  the  coun 
tess  and  holding  it  behind  her.  "  If  I  would  let 
you,  you  could  not  make  the  alteration ;  see,  your 
hand  trembles !  You  would  blot  the  parchment 
and  spoil  all  this  fine  plan  of  mine.  Give  me  the 
quill,  mother !  Give  me  the  quill ! " 

She  took  the  quill  from  Margaret's  passive  hand 
and  sat  down  at  the  table.  Spreading  the  missive 


THE   CROSSING  OF  A  «T"  295 

before  her,  she  dipped  the  quill  in  the  ink-well,  and 
when  she  lifted  it,  a  drop  of  ink  fell  upon  the 
table  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  the  parchment. 

"  Ah,  Blessed  Virgin  !  "  cried  Yolanda,  snatching 
the  missive  away  from  the  ink  blot.  "If  the  ink 
had  fallen  on  the  parchment,  we  surely  had  been 
lost.  I,  too,  am  trembling,  and  I  dare  not  try  to 
make  the  alteration  now.  What  a  poor,  helpless 
creature  I  am,  when  I  cannot  even  cross  a  <  t '  to  save 
myself.  Blessed  Virgin,  help  me  once  more  1 " 

But   help    did   not   come.      Yolanda's   excitement 

m 
grew  instead  of  subsiding,  and  she  was  so  wrought 

upon  by  a  nameless  fear  that  she  began  to  weep. 
Margaret  seated  herself  on  the  divan  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands.  Yolanda  walked  the  floor  like 
a  caged  wild  thing,  uttering  ejaculatory  prayers  to 
the  Virgin.  Again  she  took  up  the  quill,  but  again 
put  it  down,  exclaiming  :  — 

"  I  have  it,  mother !  There  is  a  friend  of  whom 
I  have  often  told  you  —  Sir  Karl.  He  will  help  us 
if  I  can  bring  him  here  in  time.  If  father  has  left 
the  castle,  I'll  take  the  letter  to  my  parlor  and 
fetch  Sir  Karl.  He  is  a  brave,  strong  old  man 
and  his  hand  will  not  tremble." 

Yolanda  left  the  room  and  soon  returned. 

"Father  has  gone  to  the  marshes,"  she  whispered 
excitedly.  "  We  have  ample  time  if  I  can  find  Sir 
Karl." 


296  YOLANDA 

She  took  the  missive,  the  ink,  and  the  quill  to  her 
parlor  in  Darius  Tower,  and  hurried  to  Castleman's 
house.  How  she  got  there  I  will  soon  tell  you. 

She  found  Twonette  sewing,  and  hastily  explained 
her  wishes. 

"  Run,  Twonette,  to  The  Mitre,  and  fetch  me  Sir 
Karl.  I  don't  want  Sir  Max  to  know  that  I  am 
sending.  I  think  Sir  Max  has  gone  falconing  with 
father;  I  pray  God  he  has  gone,  and  I  pray  that 
Sir  Karl  has '  not.  Tell  Sir  Karl  to  come  to  me  at 
once.  If  he  is  not  at  the  inn  send  for  him.  If  you 
love  me,  Twonette,  make  all  haste.  Run  !  Run  !  " 

Twonette's  haste  was  really  wonderful.  When  she 
found  me  her  cheeks  were  like  red  roses,  and  she 
could  hardly  speak  for  lack  of  breath.  For  the 
first  and  last  time  I  saw  Twonette  shorn  of  her 
serenity. 

The  duke  had  not  invited  me  to  go  hawking,  and 
fortunately  I  had  stayed  at  home  cuddling  the 
thought  that  Yolanda  was  the  Princess  Mary,  and 
that  my  fair  Prince  Max  had  found  rare  favor  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Yolanda  wants  you  at  my  father's  house  imme 
diately,"  said  Twonette,  when  I  stepped  outside  the 
inn  door.  "  The  need  is  urgent  beyond  measure." 
Whereupon  she  courtesied  and  turned  away.  Two 
nette  held  that  words  were  not  made  to  be  wasted,  so 
I  asked  no  questions.  I  almost  ran  to  Castleman's 


THE  CROSSING  OF  A  "I"  297 

house,  and  was  taken  at  once  to  a  large  room  in  the 
second  story.  It  was  on  the  west  side  of  the  house 
immediately  against  the  castle  wall.  The  walls  of 
the  room  were  sealed  with  broad  oak  panels,  beau 
tifully  carved,  and  the  west  end  of  the  apartment  — 
that  next  the  castle  wall — was  hung  with  silk  tapes 
tries.  When  I  entered  the  room  I  found  Yolanda 
alone.  She  hurriedly  closed  the  door  after  me  and 
spoke  excitedly :  — 

"  I  am  so  glad  Twonette  found  you,  Sir  Karl.  I 
am  in  dire  need.  Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  I  will  help  you  if  it  is  in  my  power,  Yolanda," 
I  answered.  «  You  can  ask  nothing  which  I  will  not 
at  least  try  to  do." 

"  Even  at  the  risk  of  your  life  ?  "  she  asked,  plac 
ing  her  hand  upon  my  arm. 

"  Even  to  the  loss  of  my  life,  Yolanda,"  I  replied. 

"  Would  you  commit  an  act  which  the  law  calls  a 
crime  ?  "  she  asked,  trembling  in  voice  and  limb. 

"I  would  do  that  which  is  really  a  crime,  if  I 
might  thereby  serve  you  to  great  purpose,"  I 
answered.  "  God  often  does  apparent  evil  that 
good  may  come  of  it.  An  act  must  be  judged  as 
a  whole,  by  its  conception,  its  execution,  and  its 
result.  Tell  me  what  you  wish  me  to  do,  and  I  will 
do  it  without  an  « if '  —  God  giving  me  the  power." 

"  Then  come  with  me." 

She  took  my  hand  and  led  me  to  the  end  of  the 


298  YOLAKDA 

room  next  the  castle  wall.  There  she  held  the 
draperies  to  one  side  while  she  pushed  back  one  of 
the  oak  panels.  Through  this  opening  we  passed, 
and  the  draperies  fell  together  behind  us.  After 
Yolanda  had  opened  the  panel  a  moment  of  light 
revealed  to  me  a  flight  of  stone  steps  built  in  the 
heart  of  the  castle  wall,  which  at  that  point  was 
sixteen  feet  thick.  When  Yolanda  closed  the  panel, 
we  were  in  total  darkness.  She  took  my  left  hand 
in  her  left  and  with  her  right  arm  at  my  back 
guided  me  up  the  long,  dark  stairway.  While 
mounting  the  steps,  she  said :  — 

"Now,  Sir  Karl,  you  have  all  my  great  secrets  — 
at  least,  they  are  very  great  to  me.  You  know  who 
I  am,  and  you  know  of  this  stairway.  No  one  knows 
of  it  but  my  mother,  uncle,  aunt,  Twonette,  and  my 
faithful  tire-woman,  Anne.  Even  my  father  does  not 
know  of  its  existence.  If  he  knew,  he  would  soon 
close  it.  My  grandfather,  Duke  Philip  the  Good, 
built  it  in  the  wall  to  connect  his  bedroom  with  the 
house  of  his  true  friend,  burgher  Castleman.  Some 
day  I'll  tell  you  the  story  of  the  stairway,  and  how 
I  discovered  it.  My  bedroom  is  the  one  my  grand 
father  occupied." 

The  stairway  explained  to  me  all  the  strange 
occurrences  relating  to  Yolanda's  appearances  and 
disappearances  at  Castleman's  house,  and  it  will  do 
the  same  for  you. 


THE  CROSSING  OF  A  «T"  299 

After  we  had  climbed  until  I  felt  that  surely  we 
must  be  among  the  clouds,  I  said :  — 

"  Yolanda,  you  must  be  leading  me  to  heaven." 

"  I  should  like  to  do  that,  Sir  Karl,"  she  responded, 
laughing  softly. 

« I  would  gladly  give  my  life  to  lead  you  and  Max 
to  heaven,"  said  I. 

«  Ah,  Sir  Karl,"  she  answered  gently,  pressing  my 
hand  and  caressingly  placing  her  cheek  against  my 
arm.  "  I  dare  not  even  think  on  that.  If  he  could 
and  would  take  me,  believing  me  to  be  a  burgher 
girl,  he  would  truly  lead  me  to  heaven." 

After  a  pause,  while  we  rested  to  take  a  breath,  I 
said  :  "  What  is  it  you  want  me  to  do,  Yolanda  ?  I 
am  unarmed." 

"  I  shall  not  ask  you  to  do  murder,  Sir  Karl,"  she 
said,  laughing  nervously.  I  fancied  I  could  see  a 
sparkle  of  mirth  in  her  eyes  as  she  continued :  "  It 
is  not  so  bad  as  that.  Neither  is  there  a  dragon  for 
you  to  overthrow.  But  I  shall  soon  enlighten  you  — 
here  we  are  at  the  top  of  the  steps." 

At  the  moment  she  spoke  I  collided  with  a  heavy 
oak  partition,  in  which  Yolanda  quickly  found  a 
moving  panel,  and  we  entered  a  dimly  lighted  room. 
I  noticed  among  the  furniture  a  gorgeously  tapestried 
bed.  A  rich  rug,  the  like  of  which  I  had  seen  in 
Damascus,  covered  the  floor.  The  stone  walls  were 
draped  with  silk  tapestry,  and  a  jewelled  lamp  was 


300  YOLANDA 

pendant  from  the  vaulted  ceiling.  This  was  Yolanda's 
bedroom,  and  truly  it  was  a  resting-place  worthy  of 
the  richest  princess  in  Christendom.  I  felt  that  I 
was  in  the  holy  of  holies.  I  found  difficulty  in  be 
lieving  that  the  childlike  Yolanda  could  be  so  impor 
tant  a  personage  in  the  politics  of  Europe.  She 
seemed  almost  to  belong  to  me,  so  much  at  that  time 
did  she  lean  on  my  strength. 

Out  of  her  sleeping  apartment  she  led  me  to  an 
other  and  a  larger  room,  lighted  by  broad  windows 
cut  through  the  inner  wall  of  the  castle,  which  at 
that  point  was  not  more  than  three  or  four  feet 
thick.  This  was  Yolanda's  parlor.  The  floor,  like 
that  of  the  bedroom,  was  covered  with  a  Damascus 
rug.  The  windows  were  closed  by  glass  of  crystal 
purity,  and  the  furniture  was  richer  than  any  I  had 
seen  in  the  emperor's  palace. 

Yolanda  led  me  to  a  table,  pointed  to  a  chair  for 
me,  and  drew  up  one  for  herself.  At  that  moment  a 
lady  entered,  whom  Yolanda  ran  to  meet.  The  prin 
cess  took  the  lady's  hand  and  led  her  to  me :  — 

"  Sir  Karl,  this  is  my  mother.  As  you  already 
know,  she  is  my  stepmother,  but  I  forget  that  in 
the  love  I  bear  her,  and  in  the  sweet  love  she  gives 
to  me." 

I  bent  my  knee  before  the  duchess,  who  gave  me 
her  hand  to  kiss,  saying :  — 

«  The  princess  has  often  spoken  to  me  of  you,  Sir 


THE  CKOSSING-  OF  A  «T"  301 

Karl.  I  see  she  has  crept  into  your  heart.  She  wins 
all  who  know  her." 

"My  devotion  to  Her  Highness  is  self-evident  and 
needs  no  avowal,"  I  answered,  "  but  I  take  pleasure 
in  declaring  it.  I  am  ready  to  aid  her  at  whatever 
cost." 

"  Has  the  princess  told  you  what  she  wants  you 
to  do  ?  "  asked  the  duchess. 

I  answered  that  she  had  not,  but  that  I  was  glad 
to  pledge  myself  unenlightened.  I  then  placed  a 
chair  for  the  duchess,  but,  of  course,  remained  stand 
ing.  Yolanda  resumed  her  chair,  and  said :  — 

"  Fetch  a  chair,  Sir  Karl.  We  are  glad  to  have 
you  sit,  are  we  not,  mother  ?  " 

"  Indeed  we  are,"  said  Margaret.  "  Please  sit  by 
the  table,  and  the  princess  will  explain  why  she 
brought  you  here." 

"  I  believe  I  can  now  do  it  myself,  mother,"  said  Yo 
landa,  taking  a  folded  parchment  from  its  pouch. 
"  See,  my  hand  is  perfectly  steady.  Sir  Karl  has 
given  me  strength." 

She  spread  the  parchment  before  her,  and,  taking 
a  quill  from  the  table,  dipped  it  in  the  ink-well. 

"I'll  not  need  you  after  all,  Sir  Karl.  I  find 
I  can  commit  my  own  crime,"  she  said,  much  to  my 
disappointment.  I  was,  you  see,  eager  to  sin  for  her. 
I  longed  to  kill  some  one  or  to  do  some  other  deed 
of  valiant  and  perilous  villany. 


302  YOLANDA 

Yolanda  bent  over  the  missive,  quill  in  hand,  but 
hesitated.  She  changed  her  position  on  the  chair, 
squaring  herself  before  the  parchment,  and  tried  again, 
but  she  seemed  unable  to  use  the  quill.  She  placed 
it  on  the  table  and  laughed  nervously. 

"  I  surely  am  a  great  fool,"  she  said.  "  When  I 
take  the  quill  in  my  hand,  I  tremble  like  a  squire  on 
his  quintain  trial.  I'll  wait  a  moment,  and  grow 
calm  again,"  she  added,  with  a  fluttering  little  laugh 
peculiar  to  her  when  she  was  excited.  But  she  did 
not  grow  calm,  and  after  she  had  vainly  taken  up 
the  quill  again  and  again,  her  mother  said :  — 

"  Poor  child !  Tell  Sir  Karl  what  you  wish  him 
to  do." 

Yolanda  did  so,  and  then  read  the  missive.  I  did 
not  know  the  English  language  perfectly,  but  Yolanda, 
who  spoke  it  as  if  it  were  her  mother  tongue,  trans 
lated  as  she  read.  I  had  always  considered  the  island 
language  harsh  till  I  heard  Yolanda  speak  it.  Even 
the  hissing  "  th  "  was  music  on  her  lips.  Had  I  been 
a  young  man  I  would  doubtless  have  made  a  fool  of 
myself  for  the  sake  of  this  beautiful  child-woman. 
When  she  had  finished  reading  the  missive,  she  left 
her  chair  and  came  to  my  side.  She  bent  over  my 
shoulder,  holding  the  parchment  before  me. 

"What  I  want  to  do,  but  can't  —  what  I  want 
you  to  do  is  so  small  and  simple  a  matter  that  it  is 
almost  amusing,  I  grow  angry  when  I  think  that  I 


THE   CROSSING  OF  A  «T"  303 

cannot  do  so  little  a  thing  to  help  myself ;  but  you 
see,  Sir  Karl,  I  tremble  and  my  hand  shakes  to  that 
extent  I  fear  to  mar  the  page.  I  simply  want  to 
make  the  letter  <  t '  on  this  parchment  and  I  can't. 
Will  you  do  it  for  me  ?  " 

"  Ay,  gladly,"  I  responded,  "  but  where  and  why  ?  " 
Then  she  pointed  out  to  me  the  word  "  nov  "  in  the 
manuscript  and  said  :  — 

"  A  letter  <  t,'  if  deftly  done,  will  make  <  not ' 
instead  of  '  nov.'  Do  you  understand,  Sir  Karl  ?  " 

I  sprang  to  my  feet  as  if  I  had  been  touched  by  a 
sword-point.  The  thought  was  so  ingenious,  the 
thing  itself  was  so  small  and  the  result  was  so  tre 
mendous  that  I  stood  in  wonder  before  the  daring 
girl  who  had  conceived  it.  I  made  no  answer.  I 
placed  the  parchment  on  the  table,  unceremoniously 
reached  in  front  of  the  duchess  for  the  quill,  and  in 
less  time  than  one  can  count  thr^e  I  made  a  tiny  ink 
mark  not  the  sixteenth  part  of  an  inch  long  that 
changed  the  destinies  of  nations  for  all  time  to  come. 

I  placed  the  quill  on  the  table  and  turned  to 
Yolanda,  just  in  time  to  catch  her  as  she  was  about 
to  fall.  I  was  frightened  at  the  sight  of  her  pale  face 
and  cried  out :  — 

"  Yolanda  !    Yolanda  !  " 

Margaret  quickly  brought  a  small  goblet  of  wine, 
and  I  held  the  princess  while  I  opened  her  lips  and 
poured  a  portion  of  the  drink  into  her  mouth.  I  had 


304  YOLANDA 

in  my  life  seen,  without  a  tremor,  hundreds  of  men 
killed,  but  I  had  never  seen  a  woman  faint,  and  the 
sight  almost  unmanned  me. 

Stimulated  by  the  wine  Yolanda  soon  revived ;  and 
when  she  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled  up  into  my 
face,  I  was  so  joyful  that  I  fell  to  kissing  her  hands 
and  could  utter  no  word  save  "  Yolanda,  Yolanda." 
She  did  not  at  once  rise  from  my  arms,  but  lay  there 
smiling  into  my  face  as  if  she  were  a  child.  When 
she  did  rise  she  laughed  softly  and  said,  turning  to 
the  duchess  :  — 

" '  Yolanda '  is  the  name  by  which  Sir  Karl  knows 
me.  You  see,  mother,  I  was  not  mistaken  in  deem 
ing  him  my  friend." 

Then  she  turned  suddenly  to  me,  and  taking  my 
rough  old  hand  in  hers,  lifted  it  to  her  lips.  That 
simple  act  of  childish  gratitude  threw  me  into  a 
fever  of  ecstasy  so  great  that  death  itself  could  have 
had  no  terrors  for  me.  He  might  have  come  when 
he  chose.  I  had  lived  through  that  one  moment,  and 
even  God  could  not  rob  me  of  it. 

Yolanda  moved  away  from  me  and  took  up  the 
parchment. 

"  Don't  touch  it  till  the  ink  dries,"  I  cried  sharply. 

She  dropped  it  as  if  it  were  hot,  and  the  duchess 
came  to  me,  and  graciously  offered  her  hand :  — 

"  I  thank  you  with  my  whole  heart,  not  only  for 
what  you  have  done,  but  for  the  love  you  bear  the 


THE  CROSSING   OF  A  "T"  305 

princess.  She  is  the  one  I  love  above  all  others,  and 
I  know  she  loves  me.  I  love  those  who  love  her. 
As  the  French  say,  '  Les  amies  de  mes  amies  sont  mes 
amies.9  I  am  a  poor  helpless  woman,  more  to  be 
pitied  than  the  world  can  believe.  I  have  only  my 
gratitude  to  offer  you,  Sir  Karl,  but  that  shall  be 
yours  so  long  as  I  live." 

"  Your  Grace's  reward  is  far  too  great  for  the  small 
service  I  have  rendered,"  I  replied,  dropping  to  my 
knee.  I  was  really  beginning  to  live  in  my  sixtieth 
year.  I  was  late  in  starting,  but  my  zest  for  life  was 
none  the  less,  now  that  I  had  at  last  learned  its 
sweetness  through  these  two  gracious  women. 

When  we  had  grown  more  composed,  Yolanda  ex 
plained  to  me  her  hopes  regarding  the  French  king's 
answer  to  the  altered  missive,  and  the  whole  marvel 
lous  possibilities  of  the  letter  "  t "  dawned  upon  my 
mind.  The  princess  bent  over  the  parchment,  watch 
ing  our  mighty  "t"  while  the  ink  was  drying,  but 
the  process  was  too  slow  for  her,  so  she  filled  her 
cheeks  and  breathed  upon  the  writing.  The  color 
returned  to  her  face  while  I  watched  her,  and  I  felt 
that  committing  a  forgery  was  a  small  price  to  pay 
for  witnessing  so  beautiful  a  sight.  Yolanda's  breath 
soon  dried  the  ink,  and  then  we  examined  my  work. 
I  had  performed  wonders.  The  keenest  eye  could 
not  detect  the  alteration.  Yolanda,  as  usual,  sprang 
from  the  deepest  purgatory  of  trouble  to  the  seventh 


306  YOLANDA 

heaven  of  joy.  She  ran  about  the  room,  singing, 
dancing,  and  laughing,  until  the  duchess  warned  her 
to  be  quiet.  Then  she  placed  her  hand  over  her 
mouth,  shrugged  her  shoulders,  walked  on  tiptoe,  and 
spoke  only  in  whispers.  Margaret  smiled  affection 
ately  at  Yolanda's  childish  antics  and  said :  — 

"  I  think  the  conspirators  should  disperse.  I  hope, 
Sir  Karl,  that  I  may  soon  meet  you  in  due  form. 
Meantime,  of  course,  it  is  best  that  we  do  not  know 
each  other." 

After  examining  the  missive  for  the  twentieth  time, 
Yolanda  placed  it  in  its  pouch  and  turned  to  the 
duchess. 

"  Take  it,  mother,  to  the  iron  box,  and  I  will  lead 
Sir  Karl  back  to  Uncle  Castleman's,"  she  said. 

The  duchess  graciously  offered  me  a  goblet  of  wine, 
and  after  I  had  drunk,  Yolanda  led  me  down  the  stair 
way  to  the  House  under  the  Wall.  While  descend 
ing  Yolanda  called  my  attention  to  a  loose  stone  in 
the  wall  of  the  staircase. 

"  The  other  end  of  this  stone,"  she  said,  "  penetrates 
the  wall  of  the  room  that  you  and  Sir  Max  occupied 
the  night  before  you  were  liberated.  The  rnortar  has 
fallen  away,  and  it  was  here  that  I  spoke  to  you  and 
told  you  not  to  fear." 

Here  was  another  supernatural  marvel  all  too  easily 
explained. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

PARTICEPS    CRIMINIS 

THAT  evening  after  supper  Max  and  I  walked  over 
to  Castleman's.  The  evening  was  cool,  and  we 
were  sitting  in  the  great  parlor  talking  with  Castle- 
man  and  Twonette  when  Yolanda  entered.  The 
room  was  fully  fifty  feet  long,  and  extended  across  the 
entire  front  of  the  house.  A  huge  chimney  was  built 
at  the  east  end  of  the  room,  and  on  either  side  of 
the  fireplace  was  a  cushioned  bench.  A  similar 
bench  extended  across  the  entire  west  end  of  the 
room.  When  Yolanda  entered  she  ran  to  me  and 
took  my  hand. 

"  Come,  Sir  Karl,  I  want  to  speak  with  you,"  she 
said. 

She  led  me  to  the  west  end  of  the  room,  sat  down 
on  the  cushioned  bench,  and  drew  in  her  skirts  that  I 
might  sit  close  beside  her. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  about  the  missive,  Sir  Karl," 
she  whispered,  laughing  and  shrugging  her  shoulders 
in  great  glee.  "  Mother  returned  it  to  the  box,  and 
when  I  left  you  I  hurried  back  and  haunted  the  room, 
fearing  that  some  one  might  meddle  with  the  parch- 

307 


308  YOLANDA 

ment.  Near  the  hour  of  six  o'clock  father  entered. 
I  was  sitting  on  the  divan,  and  he  sat  down  in  his 
great  chair,  of  course  taking  no  notice  of  me  —  I  am 
too  insignificant  for  so  great  a  person  to  notice,  except 
when  he  is  compelled  to  do  so.  I  was  joyful  in  my 
heart,  but  I  conjured  up  all  my  troubles  that  I  might 
make  myself  weep.  I  feared  to  show  any  change  in 
myself,  so  I  sobbed  aloud  now  and  then,  and  soon 
father  turned  angrily  toward  me.  <  Are  you  still 
there  ? '  he  asked.  '  Yes,  father,'  I  answered,  as  if 
trying  to  stifle  my  sobs.  <  Are  you  really  going  to 
send  that  cruel  letter  to  King  Louis  ? '  " 

"  Cruel,  indeed,"  I  interrupted. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  Well,  father  made  no  reply,  and  I  went 
over  to  him  and  began  to  plead.  I  should  have 
wanted  to  cut  my  tongue  out  had  I  succeeded,  but 
I  had  little  fear.  Father  is  not  easily  touched  by 
another's  suffering,  and  my  tears  only  hardened  his 
heart.  Well,  of  course,  he  repulsed  me ;  and  soon  a 
page  announced  Byron  the  herald  and  the  Bishop  of 
Cambrai.  Father  took  the  packet  from  the  iron  box, 
and  put  his  fingers  in  the  pouch,  as  if  he  were  going 
to  take  out  the  letter.  He  hesitated,  and  during  that 
moment  of  halting  I  was  by  turns  cold  as  ice  and 
hot  as  fire.  Finally  his  resolution  took  form,  and  he 
drew  out  the  missive.  I  thought  I  should  die  then 
and  there,  when  he  began  to  look  it  over.  But  after 
a  careless  glance  he  put  it  back  in  the  pouch,  and 


PAETICEPS  CRIMINIS  309 

threw  it  on  the  table  in  front  of  the  bishop.  I  could 
hardly  keep  from  shouting  for  joy.  He  had  failed 
to  see  the  alteration,  and  in  case  of  its  discovery,  he 
might  now  be  his  own  witness  against  King  Louis, 
should  that  crafty  monarch  dare  to  alter  my  father's 
missive  by  so  much  as  the  crossing  of  a  <t'.  If  father 
hereafter  discovers  anything  wrong  in  the  letter,  he 
will  be  able  to  swear  that  King  Louis  was  the  evil  doer, 
since  father  himself  put  the  letter  in  the  pouch  with 
his  own  hands.  Father  will  never  suspect  that  a 
friend  came  to  me  out  of  far-away  Styria  to  commit 
this  crime." 

"  I  rejoice  that  I  came,"  I  said. 

"  And  I,"  she  answered.  "  I  feared  the  bishop 
would  read  the  letter,  but  he  did  not.  He  tied  the 
ribbon,  softened  the  lead  wafer  over  the  lamp  flame, 
and  placed  it  on  the  bow-knot ;  then  he  stamped  it 
with  father's  small  seal.  When  it  was  finished  I  did 
not  want  to  laugh  for  joy  —  when  one  is  very  happy 
one  wants  to  weep.  That  I  could  safely  do,  and  I 
did.  The  bishop  handed  the  letter  to  Byron,  and 
father  spoke  commandingly :  '  Deliver  the  missive  to 
the  French  king  before  you  sleep  or  eat,  unless  he 
has  left  Paris.  If  he  has  gone  to  Tours,  follow  him 
and  loiter  not.'  'And  if  he  is  not  in  Tours,  Your 
Grace  ? '  asked  Byron.  <  Follow  him  till  you  find 
him,'  answered  father,  '  if  you  must  cross  the  seas.' 
< Shall  I  do  all  this  without  eating  or  sleeping?' 


310  YOLANDA 

asked  Byron.  Father  rose  angrily,  and  Byron  said : 
<  If  Your  Grace  will  watch  from  the  donjon  battle 
ments,  in  five  minutes  you  will  see  me  riding  on  your 
mission.  When  Your  Grace  sees  me  riding  back,  it 
will  be,  I  fear,  the  ghost  of  Byron.' 

"  It  was  a  wearisome  task  for  me  to  climb  the  don 
jon  stairs,  but  I  knew  father  would  not  be  there  to 
watch  Byron  set  out,  and  I  felt  that  one  of  the  family 
should  give  him  God-speed ;  so  alone,  and  frightened 
almost  out  of  my  wits,  I  climbed  those  dark  steps  to 
the  battlements,  and  gazed  after  Byron  till  he  was  a 
mere  speck  on  the  horizon  down  toward  Paris.  I 
pray  God  there  may  be  a  great  plenty  of  trouble  grow 
out  of  the  crossing  of  this  <  t '.  Father  is  always  say 
ing  that  women  were  put  on  earth  to  make  trouble, 
so  I'll  do  what  little  I  can  to  make  true  His  Lordship's 
words."  She  threw  back  her  head,  laughing  softly. 
"  Is  it  not  glorious,  Sir  Karl  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  Princess  —  "I  began,  but  she  clapped 
her  hand  over  my  mouth  and  I  continued,  "Indeed, 
Yolanda,  the  plan  is  so  adroit  and  so  effective  that  it 
fills  me  with  admiration  and  awe." 

"  I  like  the  name  Yolanda,"  said  she,  looking  toward 
Max,  who  was  sitting  with  Twonette  on  one  of  the 
benches  by  the  chimney. 

"  And  I,  too,  like  it,"  I  responded.  "  I  cannot 
think  of  you  as  the  greatest  and  richest  princess  in 
Europe." 


PAETICEPS  CEIMINIS  311 

"  Ah,  I  wish  I,  too,  could  forget  it,  but  I  can't,"  she 
answered  with  a  sigh,  glancing  from  under  her  pre 
posterously  long  lashes  toward  Max  and  Twonette. 

"  How  came  you  to  take  the  name  Yolanda  ? "  I 
asked. 

"  Grandfather  wished  to  give  me  the  name  in  bap 
tism,"  she  answered,  "but  Mary  fell  to  my  lot.  I 
like  the  present  arrangement.  Mary  is  the  name  of 
the  princess  —  the  unhappy,  faulty  princess.  Yolanda 
is  my  name.  Almost  every  happy  hour  I  have  ever 
spent  has  been  as  Yolanda.  You  cannot  know  the 
wide  difference  between  me  and  the  Princess  Mary. 
It  is,  Sir  Karl,  as  if  we  were  two  persons." 

She  spoke  very  earnestly,  and  I  could  see  that  there 
was  no  mirth  in  her  heart  when  she  thought  of  her 
self  as  the  Princess  Mary ;  she  was  not  jesting. 

"I  don't  know  the  princess,"  I  said  laughingly, 
"but  I  know  Yolanda." 

"  Yes ;  I'll  tell  you  a  great  secret,  Sir  Karl.  The 
Princess  Mary  is  not  at  all  an  agreeable  person.  She 
is  morose,  revengeful,  haughty,  cold  —  "  here  her  voice 
dropped  to  a  whisper,  "  and,  Sir  Karl,  she  lies  —  she 
lies.  While  Yolanda  —  well,  Yolanda  at  least  is  not 
cold,  and  I  —  I  think  she  is  a  very  delightful  person. 
Don't  you  ?  " 

There  was  a  troubled,  eager  expression  in  her  eyes 
that  told  plainly  she  was  in  earnest.  To  Yolanda  the 
princess  was  another  person. 


312  YOLANDA 

"  Yolanda  is  very  sure  of  me,"  I  answered. 

"  Ah,  that  she  is,"  answered  the  girl.  You  see, 
this  was  a  real  case  of  billing  and  cooing  between 
December  and  May. 

A  short  silence  followed,  during  which  Yolanda 
glanced  furtively  toward  Max  and  Twonette. 

"  You  spoke  of  your  grandfather,"  said  I,  "  and 
that  reminds  me  that  you  promised  to  tell  me  the 
story  of  the  staircase  in  the  wall." 

"  So  I  did,"  answered  Yolanda,  haltingly.  Her 
attention  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"  Do  you  think  Twonette  a  very  pretty  girl  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  surprised  at  the  abrupt  ques 
tion.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Yolanda's  face  and  saw 
that  I  had  made  a  mistake,  so  I  continued  hastily : 
"  That  is  —  yes  —  yes,  she  is  pretty,  though  not  beau 
tiful.  Her  face,  I  think,  is  rather  dollish.  It  is  a  fine 
creation  in  pink  and  white,  but  I  fear  it  lacks  anima 
tion." 

"  Now  for  the  stairway  in  the  wall,"  said  Yolanda, 
settling  herself  with  the  pretty  little  movements  pecul 
iar  to  her  when  she  was  contented.  "  As  I  told  you, 
grandfather  built  it.  Afterward  he  ceded  Peronne 
to  King  Louis,  and  for  many  years  none  of  our  family 
ever  saw  the  castle.  A  few  years  ago  King  Louis 
ceded  it  to  my  father.  Father  has  never  lived  here, 
and  has  visited  Peronne  only  once  in  a  while,  for  the 


PAKTICEPS  CEIMINIS  313 

purpose  of  looking  after  his  affairs  on  the  French 
border.  The  castle  is  very  strong,  and,  being  here 
on  the  border  at  the  meeting  of  the  Somme  and  the 
Cologne,  it  has  endured  many  sieges,  but  it  has  never 
been  taken.  It  is  called  '  Peronne  La  Pucelle.' 

"  Father's  infrequent  visits  to  the  castle  have  been 
brief,  and  all  who  have  ever  known  of  the  stairway 
are  dead  or  have  left  Burgundy,  save  the  good  people 
in  this  house,  my  mother,  my  tire-woman,  and  myself. 
Three  or  four  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  child,  mother 
and  I,  unhappy  at  Ghent  and  an  annoyance  to  father, 
came  here  to  live  in  the  castle,  and  —  and  —  I  wonder 
what  Sir  Max  and  Twonette  find  to  talk  about  —  and 
Twonette  and  I  became  friends.  I  love  Twonette 
dearly,  but  she  is  a  sly  creature,  for  all  she  is  so 
demure,  and  she  is  bolder  than  you  would  think,  Sir 
Karl.  These  very  demure  girls  are  often  full  of 
surprises.  She  has  been  sitting  there  in  the  shadow 
with  Sir  Max  for  half  an  hour.  That,  I  say,  would 
be  bold  in  any  girl.  Well,  to  finish  about  the  stair 
case  :  my  bedroom,  as  I  told  you,  was  my  grand 
father's.  One  day  Twonette  was  visiting  me,  and 
we  —  we —  Sir  Max,  what  in  the  world  are  you 
and  Twonette  talking  about?  We  can't  hear  a 
word  you  say." 

"We  can't  hear  what  you  are  saying,"  retorted  Max. 

"  I  wish  you  were  young,  Sir  Karl,"  whispered 
Yolanda,  "so  that  I  might  make  him  jealous." 


314  YOLANDA 

"  Shall  we  come  to  you  ? "  asked  Max. 

"  No,  no,  stay  where  you  are,"  cried  Yolanda ;  then, 
turning  to  me,  "  Where  did  I  stop  ?  " 

"  Your  bedroom  —  "I  suggested. 

«Yes — my  bedroom  was  my  grandfather's.  One  day 
I  had  Twonette  in  to  play  with  me,  and  we  rummaged 
every  nook  and  corner  we  could  reach.  By  accident 
we  discovered  the  movable  panel.  We  pushed  it 
aside,  and  spurring  our  bravery  by  daring  each  other, 
we  descended  the  dark  stairway  step  by  step  until  we 
came  suddenly  against  the  oak  panel  at  the  foot. 
We  grew  frightened  and  cried  aloud  for  help.  For 
tunately,  Tante  Castleman  was  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  panel  in  the  oak  room,  and  —  and  —  " 

She  had  been  halting  in  the  latter  part  of  her 
narrative  and  I  plainly  saw  what  was  coming. 

"  Tante  Castleman  was  —  was  —  It  was  fortu 
nate  she  —  was  in  — "  She  sprang  to  her  feet, 
exclaiming :  "  I'm  going  to  tell  Twonette  what  I 
think  of  her  boldness  in  sitting  there  in  the  dark 
with  Sir  Max.  Her  father  is  not  here  to  do  it." 
And  that  was  the  last  I  heard  of  the  stairway  in 
the  wall. 

Yolanda  ran  across  the  room  to  the  bench  by  the 
fireplace  and  stamped  her  foot  angrily  before  Two 
nette. 

"  It  —  it  is  immodest  for  a  girl  to  sit  here  in  the 
deep  shadow  beside  a  gentleman  for  hours  together. 


PAETICEPS  CRIMINIS  315 

Shame,  Twonette !  Your  father  is  not  here  to  correct 
you." 

Castleman  had  left  the  room. 

Twonette  laughed,  rose  hurriedly,  and  stood  by 
Yolanda  in  front  of  Max.  Yolanda,  by  way  of 
apology,  took  Twonette's  hand,  but  after  a  few  words 
she  coolly  appropriated  her  place  "  in  the  deep  shadow 
beside  a  gentleman."  A  princess  enjoys  many  privi 
leges  denied  to  a  burgher  girl.  When  a  girl  happens 
to  be  both,  the  burgher  girl  is  apt  to  be  influenced  by 
the  princess,  as  the  princess  is  apt  to  be  modified  by 
the  life  of  the  burgher  girl.  Presently  Yolanda  said : — 

"  Please  go,  Twonette,  and  mix  a  bowl  of  wine  and 
honey.  Yours  is  delicious.  Put  in  a  bit  of  allspice, 
Twonette,  and  pepper,  beat  it  well,  Twonette,  and 
don't  spare  the  honey.  Now  there's  a  good  girl.  Go 
quickly,  but  don't  hurry  back.  Haste,  you  know, 
Twonette,  makes  waste,  and  you  may  spoil  the  wine." 

Twonette  laughed  and  went  to  mix  the  wine  and 
honey.  I  walked  back  to  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
and  sat  down  by  a  window  to  watch  the  night  gather 
without.  I  was  athrill  with  the  delightful  thought 
that,  all  unknown  to  the  world,  unknown  even  to 
himself,  Max,  through  my  instrumentality,  was  woo 
ing  Mary  of  Burgundy  within  fifty  feet  of  where  I 
sat.  He  was  not,  of  course,  actively  pressing  his  suit, 
but  all  unconsciously  he  was  taking  the  best  course 
to  win  her  heart  forever  and  ever.  Now,  with  a 


316  YOLANDA 

propitious  trick  of  fortune,  my  fantastic  dream,  con 
ceived  in  far-off  Styria,  might  yet  become  a  veritable 
fact.  By  what  rare  trick  this  consummation  might 
be  brought  about,  I  did  not  know,  but  fortune  had 
been  kind  so  far,  and  I  felt  that  her  capricious  lady 
ship  would  not  abandon  us. 

Yolanda  turned  to  Max  with  a  soft  laugh  of  satis 
faction,  settled  her  skirts  about  her,  as  a  pleased 
woman  is  apt  to  do,  and  said  contentedly :  — 

"  There,  now  !  " 

"  Fraulein,  you  are  very  kind  to  me,"  said  Max. 

«  Yes  —  yes,  I  am,  Sir  Max,"  she  responded,  beam 
ing  on  him.  "  Now,  tell  me  what  you  and  Twonette 
have  been  talking  about." 

"  You,"  answered  Max. 

A  laugh  gurgled  in  her  throat  as  she  asked  :  — 

«  What  else  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  if  you  will  tell  me  what  you  and  Sir 
Karl  were  saying,"  he  responded. 

"  Ah,  I  see !  "  she  exclaimed,  clapping  her  hands 
gleefully.  "  You  were  jealous." 

"  I  admit  it,"  he  answered,  so  very  seriously  that 
one  might  have  thought  him  in  earnest.  «  And  you, 
Fraulein  ?  " 

"  I  jealous  ?  "  she  responded,  with  lifted  eyebrows. 
"You  are  a  vain  man,  Sir  Max.  I  was  not  jealous 
—  only  —  only  a  tiny  bit  —  so  much  —  "  and  she 
measured  the  extent  of  her  jealousy  on  the  pink  tip 


PAETICEPS   CBIMINIS  317 

of  her  little  finger.  "  I  am  told  you  were  falconing 
with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  to-day.  If  you  go  in  such 
fine  company,  I  fear  we  shall  see  little  of  you." 

"There  is  no  company  finer  than  —  than  — " 
Max  checked  his  tongue. 

"  Say  it,  Max,  say  it,"  she  whispered  coaxingly, 
leaning  toward  him. 

"  Than  you,  Fraulein."  The  girl  leaned  back 
contentedly  against  the  wall,  and  Max  continued : 
"  Yes,  his  lordship  was  kind  to  me,  and  most  gracious. 
I  cannot  believe  the  stories  of  cruelty  I  hear  of  him. 
I  have  been  told  that  on  different  occasions  he  has 
used  personal  violence  on  his  wife  and  daughter.  If 
that  be  true,  he  must  be  worse  than  the  brutes  of  the 
field,  but  you  may  be  sure,  Yolanda,  the  stories  are 
false." 

« Alas !  I  fear  they  are  too  true,"  responded  the 
girl,  sighing  in  memory  of  the  afternoon. 

"  He  is  a  pleasing  companion  when  he  wishes  to 
be,"  said  Max,  "and  I  hear  his  daughter,  the  princess, 
is  much  like  him." 

"  Heavens  ! "  exclaimed  Yolanda,  "  I  hope  she  is  like 
him  only  when  he  is  pleasing." 

"  That  is  probably  true,"  said  Max. 

"  There  is  where  I  am  really  jealous,  Max  —  this 
princess  —  "  she  said,  leaning  forward  and  looking  up 
into  his  face  with  unmistakable  earnestness. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Max,  laughing. 


318  YOLANDA 

"  Because  men  love  wealth  and  high  estate.  There 
are  scores  of  men  —  at  least,  so  I  have  been  told  — 
eager  to  marry  this  princess,  who  do  riot  even  know 
that  she  is  not  hideous  to  look  upon  and  vixenish  in 
temper.  They  would  take  her  gladly,  with  any  de 
formity,  physical,  mental,  or  moral,  for  the  sake  of 
possessing  Burgundy." 

"  But  I  am  told  she  is  fair  and  beautiful,"  said  Max. 

"  Believe  it  not,"  said  Yolanda,  sullenly.  «  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  rich  princess  who  was  not  beautiful  ? 
Anne  and  Joan,  daughters  of  King  Louis,  are  always 
spoken  of  as  paragons  of  beauty  ;  yet  those  who  know 
tell  me  these  royal  ladies  are  hideous.  King  Louis 
has  nicknamed  Joan  <The  Owlet'  because  she  is 
little,  ill-shapen,  and  black.  Anne  is  tall,  large  of 
bone,  fat,  and  sallow.  He  should  name  her  <  The 
Giantess  of  Beaujeu ' ;  and  the  little  half-witted 
Dauphin  he  should  dub  <  Knight  of  the  Princely  Order 
of  House  Rats.' " 

That  she  was  deeply  in  earnest  there  could  be  no 
doubt. 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  speak  so  freely  to  others,"  said 
Max.  « If  His  Grace  of  Burgundy  should  hear  of 
your  words  he  might  —  " 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  tell  him,"  said  Yolanda,  laugh 
ing.  "  But  this  Mary ! "  she  continued,  clinging 
stubbornly  to  the  dangerous  topic.  "  You  came  to 
woo  her  estates,  and  in  the  end  you  will  do  so." 


FART1CEPS   CRIMINIS  319 

I  am  convinced  that  the  girl  was  intensely  jealous 
of  herself.  When  she  feared  that  Max  might  seek 
the  Princess  Mary,  her  heart  brooded  over  the  thought 
that  he  would  do  so  for  the  sake  of  her  wealth  and 
her  domains. 

"  I  have  told  you  once,  Fraulein,  what  I  will  do 
and  what  I  will  not.  For  your  own  sake  and  mine 
I'll  tell  you  no  more,"  said  Max. 

"  If  I  were  a  great  princess,"  said  Yolanda,  pouting 
and  hanging  her  head,  "you  would  not  speak  so 
sharply  to  me."  Evidently  she  was  hurt  by  Max's 
words,  though  they  were  the  expression,  not  of  his 
displeasure,  but  of  his  pain. 

"  Fraulein,  forgive  me ;  my  words  were  not  meant 
to  be  sharp.  It  was  my  pain  that  spoke.  You 
torture  me  and  cause  me  to  torture  myself,"  said  Max. 
"  To  keep  a  constant  curb  on  one's  ardent  longing  is 
exhausting.  It  takes  the  heart  out  of  a  man.  At 
times  you  seem  to  forget  that  my  silence  is  my  great 
grief,  not  my  fault.  Ah,  Fraulein  !  you  cannot  under 
stand  my  longing  and  my  struggle." 

"  I  do  understand,"  she  answered  plaintively,  slip 
ping  her  hand  into  his,  "and  unless  certain  recent 
happenings  have  the  result  I  hope  for,  you,  too,  will 
understand,  more  clearly  than  you  now  do,  within  a 
very  short  time." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  Her  words 
mystified  Max,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  asking  her 


320  YOLANDA 

to  explain.  He  loved  and  pitied  her,  and  would 
have  put  his  arm  around  her  waist  to  comfort  her, 
but  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  exclaiming :  — 

"  No,  no,  Little  Max,  let  us  save  all  that  for  our 
farewell.  You  will  not  have  long  to  wait." 

Wisdom  returned  to  Max,  and  he  knew  that  she 
was  right  in  helping  him  to  resist  the  temptation  that 
he  had  so  valiantly  struggled  against  since  leaving 
Basel. 

All  that  I  had  really  hoped  for  in  Styria,  all  our  fair 
dreams  upon  the  castle  walls  of  Hapsburg,  had  come 
to  pass.  Max  had,  beyond  doubt,  won  the  heart 
of  Mary  of  Burgundy,  but  that  would  avail  nothing 
unless  by  some  good  chance  conditions  should  so 
change  that  Mary  would  be  able  to  choose  for  her 
self.  In  such  case,  ambition  would  cut  no  figure 
in  her  choice.  The  chains  of  duty  to  family,  state, 
and  ancestry  that  bound  Max's  feet  so  firmly  would 
be  but  wisps  of  straw  about  Yolanda's  slender  ankles. 
She  would  have  no  hesitancy  in  making  her  choice, 
were  she  free  to  do  so,  and  states  might  go  hang 
for  all  she  would  care.  Her  heart  was  her  state. 
Would  she  ever  be  able  to  choose  ?  Fortune  had  been 
kind  to  us  thus  far ;  would  she  remain  our  friend  ? 
She  is  a  coquette;  but  the  heart  of  a  coquette,  if 
truly  won,  is  the  most  steadfast  of  all. 

Twonette  brought  in  the  wine  and  honey;  Castle- 
man  soon  returned  and  lighted  the  lamp,  and  we 


PARTICEPS   CKIMINIS  321 

all"  sat  talking  before  the  small  blaze  in  the  fire 
place,  till  the  great  clock  in  the  middle  of  the  room 
chimed  the  hour  of  ten.  Then  Yolanda  ran  from 
us  with  a  hurried  good  night,  and  Max  returned  with 
me  to  the  inn. 

I  cannot  describe  the  joy  I  took  from  the  recur 
ring  thought  that  I  was  particeps  criminis  with  the 
Princess  of  Burgundy  in  the  commission  of  a  crime. 
At  times  I  wished  the  crime  had  been  greater  and 
its  extenuation  far  less.  We  hear  much  about 
what  happens  when  thieves  fall  out,  but  my  obser 
vation  teaches  me  that  thieves  usually  remain  good 
friends.  The  bonds  of  friendship  had  begun  to 
strengthen  between  Yolanda  and  me  before  she  sought 
my  help  in  the  perpetration  of  her  great  crime.  After 
that  black  felony,  they  became  like  links  of  Milan 
chain.  I  shared  her  secrets,  great  and  small. 

One  day  while  Yolanda  and  I  were  sitting  in  the 
oak  room,  —  the  room  from  which  the  panel  opened 
into  the  stairway  in  the  wall,  —  I  said  to  her  :  — 

"  If  your  letter  <t'  causes  a  break  with  France,  per 
haps  Max's  opportunity  may  come." 

"I  do  not  know  —  I  cannot  hope,"  she  responded 
dolefully.  "You  see,  when  father  made  this  treaty 
with  France,  he  was  halting  between  two  men  in  the 
choice  of  a  husband  for  me.  One  was  the  Dauphin, 
son  to  King  Louis,  whom  father  hates  with  every 


322  YOLANDA 

breath  he  draws.  The  other  was  the  Duke  of  Gelders, 
whom  father  really  likes.  Gelders  is  a  brute,  Sir  Karl. 
He  kept  his  father  in  prison  four  years,  and  usurped 
his  domain.  He  is  a  drunkard,  a  murderer,  and  a 
profligate.  For  reasons  of  state  father  chose  the 
Dauphin,  but  if  the  treaty  with  France  is  broken,  I 
suppose  it  will  be  Gelders  again.  If  it  comes  to  that, 
Sir  Karl  —  but  I'll  not  say  what  I'll  do.  My  head 
is  full  of  schemes  from  morning  till  night,  and  when 
I  sleep  my  poor  brain  is  a  whirl  of  visions.  Self- 
destruction,  elopement,  and  I  know  not  what  else 
appeal  to  me.  How  far  is  it  to  Styria,  Sir  Karl  ?  "  she 
asked  abruptly. 

"  Two  or  three  hundred  leagues,  perhaps  —  it  may 
be  more,"  I  answered.  "  I  do  not  know  how  far  it 
is,  Yolanda,  but  it  is  not  far  enough  for  your  pur 
poses.  Even  could  you  reach  there,  Styria  could  not 
protect  you." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  —  of  what  you  suppose,  Sir 
Karl,"  she  said  plaintively. 

«  What  were  you  thinking  of,  Yolanda  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Of  nothing  —  of  —  of  —  a  wild  dream  of  hiding 
away  from  the  world  in  some  unknown  corner,  at 
times  comes  to  me  in  my  sleep  —  only  in  my  sleep, 
Sir  Karl  —  for  in  my  waking  hours  I  know  it  to  be 
impossible.  The  only  pleasant  part  of  being  a  prin 
cess  is  that  the  world  envies  you ;  but  what  a  poor 
bauble  it  is  to  buy  at  the  frightful  price  I  pay ! " 


PARTICEPS  CEIMINIS  323 

"  I  have  been  on  mountain  tops,"  I  answered  philo 
sophically,  "  and  I  find  that  breathing  grows  difficult 
as  one  ascends." 

«  Ah,  Sir  Karl,"  she  answered  tearfully,  « I  believe 
I'll  go  upstairs  and  weep." 

I  led  her  to  the  moving  panel  and  opened  it  for  her. 
Without  turning  her  face  she  held  back  her  hand  for 
me  to  kiss.  Then  she  started  up  the  dark  stone  steps, 
and  I  knew  that  she  was  weeping.  I  closed  the  panel 
and  sat  on  the  cushioned  bench.  To  say  that  I  would 
have  given  my  old  life  to  win  happiness  for  her  but 
poorly  measures  my  devotion.  A  man's  happiness 
depends  entirely  on  the  number  and  quality  of  those 
to  whom  his  love  goes  out.  Before  meeting  Yolanda 
I  drew  all  my  happiness  from  loving  one  person  — 
Max.  Now  my  source  was  doubled,  and  I  wished 
for  the  first  time  that  I  might  live  my  life  again,  to 
lay  it  at  this  girl's  feet. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

TRIAL    BY    COMBAT 

MAX  had  waited  until  Calli's  arm  was  mended 
to  bring  up  the  subject  of  the  trial  by  combat ; 
but  when  he  would  have  taken  it  before  the  duke, 
I  dissuaded  him  by  many  pretexts,  and  for  a  few 
days  it  was  dropped.  But  soon  it  was  brought  for 
ward  in  a  most  unpleasant  way.  Max  and  I  were 
in  the  streets  of  Peronne  one  afternoon,  and  as  we 
approached  a  group  of  ragged  boys,  one  of  them 
cried  out :  — 

"  There  is  the  fellow  that  challenged  Count  Calli, 
but  won't  fight  him  ! " 

Max  turned  upon  the  boy,  caught  him  roughly  by 
the  shoulder,  and  asked  him  where  he  got  his  infor 
mation.  The  frightened  boy  replied  that  his  father 
was  a  hostler  in  the  duke's  stables,  and  had  heard 
Count  Calli  say  that  the  fellow  who  had  challenged 
him  was  "all  gauntlet  but  no  fight." 

We  at  once  sought  Hymbercourt,  who,  on  being 
closely  questioned,  admitted  that  the  Italians  in  the 
castle  were  boasting  that  the  stranger  who  seemed 
so  eager  to  fight  when  Calli's  arm  was  lame,  had  lost 
his  courage  now  that  the  arm  was  healed. 

324 


TKIAL  BY  COMBAT  325 

Of  course  I  was  in  a  deal  of  trouble  over  this  com 
bat,  and  heartily  wished  the  challenge  had  never  been 
given,  though  I  had  all  faith  in  Max's  strength  and 
skill.  I,  who  had  fought  constantly  for  twenty  years, 
had  trained  him  since  his  tenth  birthday.  I  had  not 
only  trained  him  ;  I  had  introduced  him  to  the  lists 
at  eighteen  —  he  being  well  grown,  strong  of  limb, 
and  active  as  a  wildcat.  I  waged  him  against  a 
famous  tilt-yard  knight,  and  Max  held  his  own  man 
fully,  to  his  great  credit  and  to  my  great  joy.  The 
battle  was  a  draw.  My  first  great  joy  in  life  came 
a  few  months  afterward,  when  Max  unhorsed  this 
same  knight,  and  received  the  crown  of  victory  from 
the  queen  of  the  lists. 

But  this  combat  would  be  a  battle  of  death.  Two 
men  would  enter  the  lists ;  one  would  die  in  the  course. 

Max  could,  with  propriety,  announce  his  title  and 
refuse  to  fight  one  so  far  beneath  him  as  Calli ;  but 
even  my  love  for  the  boy  and  my  fear  of  the  outcome, 
could  not  induce  me  to  advise  this.  The  advice  would 
have  been  little  heeded  had  I  given  it.  Max  was  not 
one  in  whose  heart  hatred  could  thrive,  but  every  man 
should  have  a  just  sense  of  injury  received,  and 
no  one  should  leave  all  vengeance  to  God.  In  Max's 
heart  this  sense  was  almost  judicial.  The  court  of 
his  conscience  had  convicted  Calli  of  an  unforgivable 
crime,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  his  God-appointed  duty 
to  carry  out  the  sentence. 


326  YOLANDA 

While  I  had  all  faith  in  Max's  strength  and 
skill,  I  also  knew  Calli  to  be  a  strong,  time- 
hardened  man,  well  used  to  arms.  What  his  skill 
was,  I  could  not  say,  but  fame  proclaimed  it  great. 
It  would  need  to  be  great  to  kill  Max,  boy  though 
he  was,  but  accidents  are  apt  to  happen  in  the  lists, 
and  Calli  was  treacherous.  I  was  deep  in  trouble, 
but  I  saw  no  way  out  but  for  Max  to  fight.  So,  on 
the  morning  after  our  conversation  with  Hymbercourt, 
Max  and  I  sought  admission  to  the  duke's  audience. 
Charles  had  been  privately  told  of  our  purpose  and 
of  course  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  a  battle  to 
the  death. 

A  tournament  with,  mayhap,  a  few  broken  heads 
furnished  him  great  enjoyment;  but  a  real  battle  be 
tween  two  men,  each  seeking  the  other's  life,  was  such 
keen  pleasure  to  his  savage,  blood-loving  nature,  that 
its  importance  could  hardly  be  measured.  Charles 
would  have  postponed  his  war  against  the  Swiss,  I 
verily  believe,  rather  than  miss  this  combat  between 
Max  and  Calli. 

The  duke  hurried  through  the  business  of  the  morn 
ing,  and  then  turned  toward  Max,  signifying  that  his 
time  had  come.  Max  stepped  before  the  ducal  throne, 
made  his  obeisance,  and  said  :  — 

"  May  it  please  Your  Highness  to  recall  a  wage  of 
battle  given  by  me  some  weeks  ago,  in  this  hall  and 
in  this  august  presence,  to  one  who  calls  himself 


TEIAL   BY  COMBAT  327 

Count  Calli  ?  The  cause  of  my  complaint  against  the 
said  Calli  I  need  not  here  rehearse.  I  have  waited 
to  repeat  my  defiance  until  such  time  as  Count  Calli's 
arm  should  mend.  I  am  told  that  he  is  now  strong ; 
and,  most  gracious  Lord  Charles,  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
I  again  offer  my  wage  of  battle  against  this  said 
knight  and  demand  the  trial  by  combat." 

Thereupon  he  drew  an  iron  gauntlet  from  his  girdle 
and  threw  it  clanking  on  the  stone  floor.  The  gaunt 
let  lay  untouched  for  the  space  of  a  minute  or 
two ;  and  the  duke  turned  toward  Calli  and  Campo- 
Basso,  who  stood  surrounded  by  their  Italian  friends 
at  the  right  of  the  throne.  After  a  long  pause 
Charles  said :  — 

"  Will  Count  Calli  lift  the  gage,  or  shall  we  appoint 
a  court  of  heraldry  to  determine  whether  or  no  the 
combat  shall  take  place  ?  " 

There  was  a  whispered  conversation  among  the 
Italians,  after  which  Campo-Basso  addressed  the 
duke. 

"  My  most  gracious  lord,"  said  he,  "  the  noble 
Count  Calli  is  loath  to  lift  the  gage  of  an  unknown 
man,  and  would  make  bold  to  say  that  he  will  not 
do  so  until  he  is  satisfied  that  he  who  so  boastingly 
offers  it  is  worthy  in  blood,  station,  and  knighthood 
to  stand  before  him." 

"  For  all  that  I  will  stand  surety,"  said  Hymber- 
court,  turning  to  the  duke  and  to  Campo-Basso. 


328  YOLANDA 

"  The  Lord  d'Hymbercourt's  honor  is  beyond  re 
proach,"  replied  the  Italian,  "  but  Count  Calli  must 
have  other  proof." 

Hymbercourt  was  about  to  make  an  angry  reply, 
but  he  was  silenced  by  the  duke's  uplifted  hand. 

«  We  will  ourself  be  surety  for  this  knight,"  said 
Charles. 

"  We  cannot  gainsay  Your  Lordship's  surety,  most 
gracious  duke,"  returned  Campo-Basso ;  "  but  with 
all  meekness  and  humility  we  would  suggest,  with 
Your  Grace's  permission,  that  when  a  man  jeopards 
his  life  against  another  he  feels  it  his  right  to  know 
at  least  his  foe's  name." 

"  Count  Calli  must  content  himself  with  knowing 
that  the  knight's  name  is  Sir  Maximilian  du  Guelph. 
If  Count  Calli  is  right  and  his  cause  just,  God  will 
give  him  victory,  and  the  whole  world  shall  know  of 
his  deed.  If  he  is  in  the  wrong  and  his  cause  unjust, 
may  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul." 

A  long  pause  ensued  during  which  Max  stood  be 
fore  the  duke,  a  noble  figure  of  manly  beauty  worthy 
the  chisel  of  a  Greek  sculptor.  The  shutter  in  the 
ladies'  gallery  was  ajar  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Yolanda's  pale,  tear-stained  face  as  she  looked  down 
upon  the  man  she  loved,  who  was  to  put  his  life  in 
peril  to  avenge  her  wrong. 

"  We  are  wasting  time,  Count  Calli,"  spoke  the 
duke.  «  Take  up  the  gage  or  demand  a  court.  The 


TRIAL   BY  COMBAT  329 

charge  made  by  Sir  Max  will  certainly  justify  a  court 
of  chivalry  in  ordering  the  combat.  The  truth  or 
falsity  of  that  charge  you  and  Sir  Max  must  prove  on 
each  other's  bodies.  His  desire  to  remain  unknown 
the  court  will  respect ;  he  has  ample  precedent.  If 
you  are  convinced  by  the  word  of  our  Lord  d'Hym- 
bercourt  and  myself  that  he  is  of  birth  and  station 
worthy  to  engage  with  you  in  knightly  and  mortal 
combat,  you  can  ask  no  more.  Few  courts  of  chiv 
alry,  I  take  it,  would  hold  the  evidence  inconclusive. 
Take  up  or  leave  the  gage,  Sir  Count,  and  do  one  or 
the  other  at  once." 

Calli  walked  over  to  the  gauntlet  and,  taking  it 
from  the  floor,  held  it  in  his  right  hand  while  he  bent 
his  knee  before  the  duke.  He  did  not  look  toward 
Max,  but  turned  in  the  direction  of  his  friends  and 
tucked  the  gauntlet  in  his  girdle  as  he  strode  away. 

"  We  appoint  this  day  twelve  days,  on  a  Sunday 
afternoon,  for  the  combat,"  said  Charles.  "Then 
these  men  shall  do  their  endeavor,  each  upon  the 
other;  and  may  God  give  victory  to  the  right ! " 

That  evening,  as  usual,  Max  and  I  were  at  Castle- 
man's.  Yolanda  did  not  come  down  till  late,  but 
when  she  came  she  clung  silently  to  Max,  and  there 
was  a  deep  pathos  in  her  every  word  and  glance.  As 
we  left,  I  went  back  and  whispered  hurriedly  to 
her:  — 


330  YOLANDA 

"  Have  no  fear,  dear  one.  Our  Max  will  take  no 
harm." 

My  words  were  bolder  than  my  heart,  but  I  thought 
to  comfort  her. 

"  I  have  no  fear,  Sir  Karl,"  she  said,  in  a  trembling 
voice.  "There  is  no  man  so  strong  and  brave  as 
Max.  He  is  in  the  right,  and  God  is  just.  The 
Blessed  Virgin,  too,  will  help  him.  It  would  be 
sacrilege  to  doubt  her.  I  do  not  doubt.  I  do  not 
fear,  Sir  Karl,  but,  oh,  my  friend  — "  Here  she 
buried  her  face  on  my  breast  and  wept  convulsively. 
Her  words,  too,  had  been  bolder  than  her  heart  —  far 
bolder. 

The  brooding  instinct  in  me  —  the  faint  remnant 
of  mother  love,  that  kind  Providence  has  left  in  every 
good  man's  heart  —  longed  to  comfort  her  and  bear 
her  pains.  But  I  was  powerless  to  help  her,  and, 
after  all,  her  suffering  wTas  wholesome.  In  a  moment 
she  continued,  sobbing  while  she  spoke :  — 

«  But  —  oh  !  if  by  any  mischance  Max  should  fall ; 
if  by  treachery  or  accident  —  oh,  Sir  Karl,  my  heart  is 
breaking.  Do  not  let  Max  fight."  These  words  were 
from  her  woman's  heart.  "  His  station  will  excuse 
him,  but  if  the  affair  has  gone  too  far  for  him  to 
withdraw,  tell  him  to  —  to  leave  Burgundy,  to  run 
away,  to  —  " 

"  Yolanda,  what  are  you  saying  ? "  I  asked. 
"  Would  you  not  rather  see  him  dead  than  a 
coward  ?  " 


TRIAL  BY  COMBAT  331 

"  No,  no,  Sir  Karl,"  she  cried,  wrought  almost  to  a 
frenzy  by  her  grief  and  fear.  "  No,  no,  anything  but 
dead." 

"  Listen  to  reason,  Yolanda,"  I  answered.  "  I,  who 
love  Max  more  than  I  love  the  blood  of  my  heart, 
would  kill  him  with  my  own  hand  rather  than  have 
cause  to  call  him  coward  and  speak  the  truth." 

"  No,  no,"  she  cried  desperately,  grasping  my  hand. 
"  Do  not  let  him  fight.  Ah,  Sir  Karl,  if  you  bear  me 
any  love,  if  my  grief  and  unhappy  lot  have  touched 
your  heart,  even  on  the  smallest  spot,  I  pray  you,  do 
this  thing  for  me.  Do  not  let  Max  fight  with  this 
Count  Calli.  If  Max  falls  —  " 

"  But  Max  will  not  fall,"  I  answered  boldly.  "  He 
has  overthrown  better  men  than  Calli." 

"  Has  he  ?  Ah,  tell  me,  has  he  ?  He  is  little  more 
than  a  boy.  I  seem  older  than  he  at  times,  and  it  is 
hard  to  believe  what  you  say,  though  I  know  he 
is  strong,  and  that  fear  has  no  place  in  his  heart. 
Tell  me,  whom  has  he  overthrown  ?  " 

"  Another  time,  Yolanda,"  I  responded  soothingly, 
"but  this  I  say  now  to  comfort  you.  Calli  is  no 
match  for  our  Max.  In  the  combat  that  is  to  come, 
Max  can  kill  him  if  he  chooses,  barring  accidents 
and  treachery.  Over  and  above  his  prowess,  his 
cause,  you  know,  is  just,  and  for  that  reason  God  will 
be  with  him." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  sobbed  Yolanda,  "  and  the  Virgin,  too." 


332  YOLANDA 

The  Virgin  was  a  woman  in  whom  she  could  find 
a  woman's  sympathy.  She  trusted  God  and  stood  in 
reverent  awe  of  Him;  but  one  could  easily  see  that 
the  Virgin  held  her  heart  and  was  her  refuge  in  time 
of  trouble.  When  I  turned  to  leave  she  called  me 
back,  saying :  — 

"  I  have  a  mind  to  tell  Max  the  truth  —  to  tell 
him  who  I  am." 

"  I  would  not  do  so  now,"  I  answered,  fearing, 
perhaps  with  good  reason,  the  effect  of  the  disclos 
ure  on  Max.  «  After  the  combat,  if  you  wish  to 
tell  him  —  " 

"  But  if  he  should  fall  ?  "  said  the  girl,  beginning 
to  weep  again  and  clinging  desperately  to  my  arm. 
"  If  he  should  fall,  not  knowing  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  Max  will  not  fall,  Yolanda.  Dismiss  that  fear 
from  your  heart." 

My  bold  words  served  a  double  purpose.  They  at 
least  partially  satisfied  Yolanda,  and  they  strengthened 
me. 

Of  course  Max  and  I  at  once  began  to  prepare  for 
the  combat.  The  charger  we  had  captured  from  the 
robbers  on  the  Rhine  now  came  to  our  hand  as  if 
sent  by  Providence.  He  was  a  large,  active  horse, 
with  limbs  like  steel.  He  was  an  intelligent  animal, 
too,  and  a  good  brain  is  almost  as  valuable  in  a  horse 
as  in  a  man.  He  had  evidently  borne  arms  all  his 


TEIAL   BY  COMBAT  333 

life,  for  when  we  tried  him  in  the  tilt-yard  we  found 
him  trained  at  every  point. 

There  was  no  heavy  plate  at  the  Peronne  armor 
er's  large  enough  for  Max,  so  Hymbercourt  dropped 
a  hint  to  Duke  Charles,  and  His  Grace  sent  two 
beautiful  suits  to  our  inn.  One  was  of  Barcelona 
make,  the  other  an  old  suit  which  we  judged  had 
come  from  Damascus.  I  tried  the  latter  with  my 
sword,  and  spoiled  a  good  blade.  Although  the 
Damascus  armor  was  too  heavy  by  a  stone,  we 
chose  it,  and  employed  an  armorer  to  tighten  a 
few  nuts,  and  to  adjust  new  straps  to  the  shoulder 
plates  and  arm  pieces. 

We  caused  lists  to  be  built  outside  the  walls,  and 
Max  worked  eight  hours  a  day  to  harden  himself.  He 
ran  against  me,  against  our  squires,  who  were  lusty 
big  fellows,  and  now  and  then  against  Hymbercourt, 
who  was  a  most  accomplished  knight. 

Yolanda  was  prone  to  coax  Max  not  to  fight,  and 
her  fear  showed  itself  in  every  look  and  gesture. 
Her  words,  of  course,  could  not  have  turned  him,  but 
her  fears  might  have  undermined  his  self-confidence. 
So  I  pointed  out  to  her  the  help  he  would  get  from 
encouragement,  and  the  possible  hurt  he  would  take 
were  her  fears  to  infect  him.  After  my  admonition, 
her  efforts  to  be  cheerful  and  confident  almost  brought 
tears  to  my  eyes.  She  would  sing,  but  her  song 
was  joyless.  She  would  banter  Max  and  would  run 


334  YOLANDA 

imaginary  courses  with  him,  taking  the  part  of  Calli, 
and  always  falling  dead  at  Max's  feet ;  but  the  mo 
ment  of  relaxation  brought  a  haunting,  terrified 
expression  to  her  eyes.  The  corners  of  her  sweet 
mouth  would  droop,  effacing  the  cluster  of  dimples 
that  played  about  her  lips,  and  the  fair,  childish  face, 
usually  so  joyful,  wore  the  mask  of  grief.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  real  happiness  had  come,  not 
within  her  grasp,  but  within  sight;  and  this  com 
bat  might  snatch  it  from  her. 

Once  when  I  was  helping  Max  to  buckle  on  his 
armor  for  a  bout  at  practice,  he  said  :  — 

"  Yolanda  seems  to  treat  this  battle  as  a  jest. 
She  laughs  and  banters  me  as  if  it  were  to  be  a 
justing  bout.  I  wonder  if  she  really  has  a  heart  ?  " 

"  Max,  I  am  surprised  at  your  dulness,"  I  said. 
"  Do  you  not  see  her  manner  is  assumed,  though 
her  fear  is  small  because  of  her  great  faith  in 
your  prowess  ?  " 

"  I'll  try  to  deserve  her  faith,"  answered  Max. 

When  at  last  the  day  arrived,  Max  was  in  prime 
condition.  At  the  inn  we  carefully  adjusted  the 
armor  and  fitted  it  on  him.  One  of  our  squires  led 
the  charger,  carefully  trapped,  to  the  lists,  which  had 
been  built  in  an  open  field  outside  the  town,  west  of 
the  castle. 

Max  and  I,  accompanied  by  Hymbercourt  and  two 


TEIAL   BY  COMBAT  335 

other  friends,  rode  down  to  Castleman's,  and  Max 
entered  the  house  for  a  few  minutes.  Yolanda  had 
told  him  that  she  would  not  be  at  the  lists,  and  Max 
felt  that  it  were  better  so. 

Twonette  and  her  father  had  gone  to  the  lists 
when  we  reached  the  House  under  the  Wall,  but  Yo 
landa  and  Frau  Kate  were  awaiting  us.  There  was 
a  brief  greeting  and  a  hurried  parting  —  tearful  on 
Yolanda's  part.  Then  we  rode  around  to  the  Postern 
and  entered  the  courtyard  of  the  castle.  Crossing 
the  courtyard,  we  passed  out  through  the  great  gate 
at  the  keep,  and  soon  stood  demanding  admission  to 
the  lists. 

The  course  was  laid  off  north  and  south,  the  sun 
being  in  the  southwest.  The  hour  of  battle  was  fixed 
at  four  o'clock,  and  the  combat  was  to  continue  till 
sundown,  if  neither  champion  fell  before  that  time. 
The  pavilion  for  the  duke  and  the  other  spectators 
was  built  at  the  west  side  of  the  false  lists  —  a  strip 
of  ground  ten  feet  wide,  extending  entirely  around 
the  true  lists,  but  separated  from  it  by  a  barrier  or 
railing  three  feet  high. 

It  was  an  hour  after  we  left  Castleman's  house 
before  Max  and  I  entered  the  false  lists.  As  I  ex 
pected,  the  princess  was  sitting  in  the  pavilion  with 
her  father  and  Duchess  Margaret.  A  veil  partly  con 
cealed  her  features,  and  when  Max  rode  down  the 
false  lists  to  make  his  obeisance  before  the  duke  and 


336  YOLANDA 

the  duchess,  he  could  not  know  that  the  white  face 
of  Yolanda  looked  down  upon  him.  I  was  sorry 
to  see  the  princess  in  the  pavilion,  because  I  knew 
that  if  an  untoward  fate  should  befall  Max,  a  demon 
stration  would  surely  follow  in  the  ducal  gallery. 

At  the  gate  of  the  true  lists,  Max  was  met  by  a 
priest,  who  heard  his  oath,  and  by  a  herald,  who 
read  the  laws  and  the  agreement  relating  to  the 
combat.  A  court  of  heraldry  had  decided  that 
three  lances  should  be  broken,  after  which  the  cham 
pions,  if  both  alive,  should  dismount  and  continue 
the  fight  with  battle-axes  of  whatever  weight  they 
might  choose.  If  either  knight  should  be  disabled, 
it  was  the  other's  right  to  kill  him. 

After  Max  had  entered  the  true  lists  the  gates  were 
closed,  and  Hymbercourt,  myself,  and  our  squires 
stood  outside  the  barrier  at  the  north  end  of  the  false 
lists,  —  the  north  being  Max's  station  on  the  course. 

Max  sat  his  charger,  lance  in  rest ;  Calli  waited  in 
the  south,  and  these  two  faced  each  other  with  death 
between  them. 

When  all  was  ready  the  heralds  raised  their 
banners,  and  the  duke  gave  the  word  of  battle. 
There  was  a  moment  of  deep  silence,  broken  by  the 
thunder  of  tramping  hoofs,  as  horses  and  men  rushed 
upon  each  other.  Calli  and  Max  met  in  mid-course, 
and  the  din  of  their  contact  was  like  the  report  of  a 
cannon.  Each  horse  fell  back  upon  its  haunches ; 


TEIAL   BY  COMBAT  337 

each  rider  bent  back  upon  his  horse.  Two  tough 
yule  lances  burst  into  a  hundred  splinters.  Then 
silence  ensued,  broken  after  a  moment  by  a  storm  of 
applause  from  the  pavilion. 

The  second  course  was  like  the  first,  save  that  Max 
nearly  unhorsed  Calli  by  a  marvellous  helmet  stroke. 
The  stroke  loosened  Calli's  helmet  by  breaking  a 
throat-strap,  but  neither  he  nor  his  friends  seemed 
to  notice  the  mishap,  and  the  third  course  was  begun 
without  remedying  it.  When  the  champions  were 
within  ten  yards  of  each  other,  a  report  like  the 
discharge  of  an  arquebuse  was  heard,  coming  appar 
ently  from  beneath  the  pavilion.  I  could  not  say 
whence  the  report  came  —  I  was  too  intent  upon  the 
scene  in  the  lists  to  be  thoroughly  conscious  of  hap 
penings  elsewhere  —  but  come  it  did  from  some 
where,  and  Max's  fine  charger  plunged  forward 
on  the  lists,  dead.  Max  fell  over  his  horse's  head 
and  lay  half-stunned  upon  the  ground. 

Above  the  din  rose  a  cry,  a  frantic  scream,  that 
fairly  pierced  my  heart.  Well  I  knew  the  voice 
that  uttered  it.  The  people  in  the  pavilion  rose  to 
their  feet,  and  cries  of  « Treachery !  treachery ! " 
came  from  all  directions.  Calli  was  evidently  ex 
pecting  the  shot,  for  just  before  it  came  he  reined 
in  his  horse,  and  when  Max  fell  the  Italian 
instantly  brought  his  charger  to  a  standstill  and 
began  to  dismount  with  all  the  speed  his  heavy 


338  YOLANDA 

armor  would  permit.  When  safely  down,  he  un 
clasped  his  battle-axe  from  the  chain  that  held 
it  to  his  girdle  and  started  toward  Max,  who  was 
lying  prone  upon  the  ground.  Cries  of  "  Shame  ! 
shame ! "  came  from  the  pavilion,  but  no  one,  not 
even  the  duke,  dared  to  interfere ;  it  was  Calli's  right 
to  kill  Max  if  he  could. 

I  had  covered  my  eyes  with  my  hand,  thinking 
that  surely  the  boy's  hour  had  come.  I  removed 
my  hand  when  I  heard  the  scream,  and  I  have 
thanked  God  ever  since  for  prompting  me  to  do 
that  little  act,  for  I  saw  the  most  beautiful  sight 
that  my  eyes  have  ever  beheld.  Calli  had  reached 
his  prostrate  foe  and  was  standing  over  him  with 
battle-axe  uplifted  to  deal  the  blow  of  death.  At 
that  same  moment  Yolanda  sprang  from  the  duke's 
side,  cleared  the  low  railing  in  front  of  the  ducal 
box,  and  jumped  to  the  false  lists  six  or  eight  feet 
below.  Her  gown  of  scarlet  and  gold  shone  with 
dazzling  radiance  in  the  sunlight. 

Calli  was  facing  the  pavilion,  and  Yolanda's  leap 
probably  attracted  his  attention.  However  that  may 
have  been  —  perhaps  it  was  because  of  Calli's  haste, 
perhaps  it  was  the  will  of  God  —  the  blow  fell  short, 
and  Calli's  battle-axe,  glancing  from  Max's  helmet, 
buried  itself  in  the  hard  ground.  While  Calli  was 
struggling  to  release  his  axe,  Yolanda  cleared  the  low 
barrier  of  the  true  lists,  sped  across  the  intervening 


TRIAL  BY  COMBAT  339 

space  like  a  flash  of  red  avenging  flame,  and  reached 
Max  not  one  second  too  soon,  for  Calli's  axe  was 
again  uplifted.  She  fell  upon  Max,  and  had  the  axe 
descended  she  would  have  received  the  blow.  Calli 
stepped  back  in  surprise,  his  heel  caught  on  the  toe 
of  Max's  iron  boot,  he  fell  prone  upon  his  back,  and 
the  weight  of  his  armor  prevented  him  from  rising 
quickly.  The  glancing  blow  on  Max's  helmet  had 
roused  him,  and  when  he  moved  Yolanda  rose  to  her 
knees  beside  him. 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  she  cried,  lifting  Max's  mailed 
hand  to  her  shoulder ;  Max  did  so,  and  by  help  of  the 
frail  girl  he  drew  himself  to  his  knees  and  then  to  his 
feet.  Meantime,  Calli  was  attempting  to  rise.  I  can 
still  see  the  terrible  picture.  Calli's  panting  horse  stood 
near  by  with  drooping  head.  Max's  charger  lay  quiver 
ing  in  the  convulsions  of  death.  Calli,  whose  helmet 
had  dropped  from  his  head  when  he  fell,  lay  resting 
on  his  elbow,  half  risen  and  bareheaded.  Max  stood 
deliberately  taking  his  battle-axe  from  his  girdle 
chain,  while  Yolanda  still  knelt  at  his  feet.  Battle- 
axe  in  hand,  Max  stepped  toward  Calli,  who  had 
risen  to  his  knees.  The  expression  on  the  Italian's 
face  I  shall  never  forget.  With  bared  head  and 
upturned  face  he  awaited  the  death  that  he  knew 
he  deserved.  Max  lifted  his  battle-axe  to  give  the 
blow.  I  wondered  if  he  would  give  it.  He  lowered 
the  axe,  and  a  shout  went  up  from  the  pavilion :  — 


340  YOLANDA 

«  Kill  him  !     Kill  him  !  " 

He  lifted  the  axe  again,  and  a  silence  like  the  hush 
of  death  fell  upon  the  shouting  audience.  Again  Max 
hesitated,  and  I  distinctly  heard  Yolanda,  who  was 
still  upon  her  knees,  whisper :  — 

«  Kill  him  !     Kill  him  !  " 

Then  came  the  shouts  of  a  thousand  voices,  thrill 
ing  me  to  the  marrow  :  — 

"Kill  him!  Kill  him!"  and  I  knew  that  if  I 
were  standing  in  Max's  shoes,  Calli  would  die  within 
a  moment.  I  also  remember  wondering  in  a  flash 
of  thought  if  Max  were  great  enough  to  spare  him. 
Again  the  battle-axe  came  slowly  down,  and  the  din 
in  the  pavilion  was  deafening  :  — 

"Kill  him!     Kill  him!" 

Again  the  battle-axe  rose;  but  after  a  pause,  Max 
let  it  fall  to  the  ground  behind  him ;  and,  turning 
toward  the  girl,  lifted  her  with  his  mailed  hands  to 
her  feet.  When  she  had  risen  Max  looked  into  her 
face,  and,  falling  back  a  step,  exclaimed  in  a  voice 
hushed  by  wonder:  — 

«  Yolanda  ! " 

His  words  coming  to  the  girl's  ears,  like  a  far-away 
sound,  from  the  cavernous  recesses  of  his  helmet, 
frightened  her. 

"  No,  no,  my  name  is  not  Yolanda.  You  are  mis 
taken.  You  do  not  know  me.  I  —  I  am  the  prin 
cess.  You  do  not  know  me." 


TKIAL   BY  COMBAT  341 

Her  words  were  prompted  by  two  motives :  she 
wished  to  remain  unknown  to  Max,  and  she  feared 
lest  her  father  should  come  to  know  that  a  great 
part  of  her  life  was  spent  as  a  burgher  girl.  Her 
hands  were  clasped  at  her  breast ;  her  face  was  as 
pale  as  a  gray  dawn  ;  her  breath  came  in  feeble  gusts, 
and  her  words  fell  haltingly  from  her  lips.  She  took 
two  steps  forward,  her  eyes  closed,  and  she  began  to 
fall.  Max  caught  her  and  lifted  her  in  his  strong 
arms.  On  great  occasions  persons  often  do  trivial 
acts.  With  Yolanda  held  tightly  in  the  embrace  of 
his  left  arm,  Max  stooped  to  the  ground  and  picked 
up  his  battle-axe  with  his  right  hand.  Then  he 
strode  to  the  north  end  of  the  lists  and  placed  the 
girl  in  my  arms. 

"  Yolanda,"  he  said,  intending  to  tell  me  of  his  fair 
burden. 

"  No,  Max,"  I  whispered,  as  he  unfastened  his 
helmet.  «  Not  Yolanda,  but  the  princess.  The  two 
resemble  each  other  greatly." 

"  Yolanda,"  returned  Max,  doggedly.  "  I  know  her 
as  a  mother  knows  her  first-born." 

Not  one  hundred  seconds  had  elapsed  between  the 
report  of  the  arquebuse  and  the  placing  of  Yolanda 
in  my  arms ;  but  hardly  had  Max  finished  speaking 
when  a  dozen  ladies  crowded  about  us  and  took  pos 
session  of  the  unconscious  princess. 

After  the  duke  had  set  on  foot  a  search  for  the 


342  YOLANDA 

man  who  had  fired  the  arquebuse,  he  came  down  to 
the  false  lists  and  stood  with  Hymbercourt  and  me, 
discussing  the  event.  Campo-Basso  said  that  his 
heart  was  "  sore  with  grief,"  and  the  Italians  jabbered 
like  monkeys.  One  of  them  wanted  to  kiss  Max  for 
sparing  his  kinsman's  life,  but  Max  thrust  him  off 
with  a  fierce  oath.  The  young  fellow  was  in  an  ugly 
mood,  and  if  I  had  been  his  enemy,  I  would  sooner 
have  crossed  the  path  of  a  wounded  lion  than  his. 
He  was  slow  to  anger,  but  the  treachery  he  had 
encountered  had  raised  all  of  Satan  that  was  in  him. 
Had  he  stood  before  Calli  thirty  seconds  longer  that 
treacherous  heart  would  have  ceased  to  beat. 

While  we  were  standing  in  the  false  lists,  speaking 
with  the  duke,  an  Italian  approached  Max,  bowed  low, 
and  said :  — 

"  The  noble  Count  Calli  approaches  to  thank  you 
for  your  mercy  and  to  extol  your  bravery." 

Max  turned  his  head  toward  the  centre  of  the  course, 
and  saw  Calli  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  jabbering 
friends  who  were  leading  him  toward  us.  A  black 
cloud  —  a  very  mist  from  hell  —  came  over  Max's 
face.  He  stooped  and  took  his  battle-axe  from  the 
ground.  I  placed  my  hand  on  the  boy's  arm  and 
warningly  spoke  his  name  :  — 

"  Max  ! "  After  a  pause  I  continued,  "  Leave 
murder  to  the  Italians." 

Max  uttered  a  snort  of  disdain,  but,  as  usual,  he 


TRIAL   BY  COMBAT  343 

took  my  advice.  He  turned  to  Campo-Basso,  still 
grasping  his  battle-axe  :  — 

"  Keep  that  fellow  away  from  me,"  he  said,  point 
ing  toward  Calli.  "  My  merciful  mood  was  brief.  By 
the  good  God  who  gave  me  the  villain's  life,  I  will 
kill  him  if  he  comes  within  reach  of  my  axe." 

An  Italian  ran  to  the  men  who  had  Calli  in  charge, 
and  they  turned  at  once  and  hurried  toward  the  south 
gate  of  the  lists.  All  this  action  was  very  rapid, 
consuming  only  a  minute  or  two,  and  transpired  in 
much  less  time  than  it  requires  to  tell  of  it. 

While  our  squires  were  removing  Max's  armor,  I 
heard  the  duke  say  :  — 

"  Arrest  Calli.  We  will  hold  him  until  the  shot 
is  explained.  If  he  was  privy  to  it,  he  shall  hang  or 
boil."  Then  the  duke,  placing  his  hand  on  Max's 
shoulder,  continued :  "  You  are  the  best  knight  in 
Christendom,  the  bravest,  the  most  generous,  and  the 
greatest  fool.  Think  you  Calli  would  have  spared 
you,  boy  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  Calli,  my  lord,"  said  Max. 

"  You  certainly  are  not,"  returned  the  duke. 

Visions  of  trouble  with  France  growing  out  of 
Yolanda's  "  t,"  and  of  a  subsequent  union  between 
Max  and  the  princess,  floated  before  my  mind,  even 
amidst  the  din  that  surrounded  me.  Taking  the  situ 
ation  by  and  large,  I  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy.  Max's 


344  YOLANDA 

victory  was  a  thousand  triumphs  in  one.  It  was  a 
triumph  over  his  enemy,  a  triumph  over  his  friends, 
but,  above  all,  a  triumph  over  himself.  He  had 
proved  himself  brave  and  merciful,  and  I  knew  that 
in  him  the  world  had  a  man  who  would  leave  it 
better  and  happier  than  he  found  it. 

Calli  was  arrested  and  brought  to  the  duke's  pres 
ence.  Of  course  he  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  shot 
that  had  killed  Max's  horse.  Others  were  questioned, 
including  three  Italian  friars  wearing  cassocks  and 
cowls,  who  bore  a  most  wondrous  testimony. 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  one  of  the  friars,  "  we  three 
men  of  God  can  explain  this  matter  that  so  nearly 
touches  the  honor  of  our  fair  countryman,  the  noble 
Count  Calli." 

"  In  God's  name,  do  so,"  exclaimed  the  duke. 

"  This  is  the  explanation,  most  gracious  lord. 
When  the  third  course  was  preparing,  we  three  men 
of  God  prayed  in  concert  to  God  the  Father,"  —  all  the 
friars  crossed  themselves, —  "God  the  Son,  and  God 
the  Holy  Ghost,  to  save  our  countryman,  and  lo !  our 
prayers  w6re  most  graciously  answered ;  for,  noble 
lord,  at  the  moment  when  this  most  valiant  knight 
was  about  to  kill  our  friend,  we  each  heard  a  report 
marvellously  like  to  the  discharge  of  an  arquebuse. 
At  the  same  instant  a  fiery  shaft  descended  from 
the  palm  of  a  mighty  hand  in  the  heavens,  and  the 
horse  of  this  valiant  and  most  generous  knight,  Sir 
Max,  fell  dead,  stricken  by  the  hand  of  God." 


TRIAL   BY   COMBAT  345 

I  had  no  doubt  that  this  absurd  explanation  would 
be  received  with  scorn  and  derision ;  but  the  friar 
knew  his  audience,  and  I  did  not.  His  statement 
was  not  really  accepted  as  true,  but  it  was  not  cast 
aside  as  utterly  absurd.  I  saw  that  it  might  easily 
be  believed. 

"  Why  did  not  others  see  your  wondrous  shaft 
from  the  hand  of  God  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Because,  noble  lord,"  answered  the  friar,  "  our 
eyes  were  looking  upward  in  prayer.  All  others 
were  fixed  on  this  worldly  combat." 

The  explanation  actually  seemed  to  explain. 

Just  then  the  men  who  had  been  sent  out  to  seek 
evidence  concerning  the  shot  returned,  and  reported 
that  no  arquebuse  was  to  be  found.  The  lists  were 
surrounded  by  an  open  field,  and  a  man  endeavoring 
to  escape  would  have  been  seen. 

"  Did  you  search  all  places  of  possible  concealment 
for  an  arquebuse  ?  "  asked  the  duke. 

"  All,  my  lord,"  answered  the  men,  who  were 
Burgundians  and  to  be  trusted. 

Faith  in  the  friar's  absurd  story  was  rapidly  gain 
ing  ground,  and  several  of  the  Italian  courtiers,  em 
boldened  by  encouragement,  affirmed  upon  their  hope 
of  salvation  and  their  knightly  honor  that  they,  too, 
had  witnessed  the  descent  of  the  shaft  from  heaven. 
Touch  a  man  on  his  superstitions,  and  he  will  believe 
anything  you  tell  him.  If  you  assure  him  that  an 


346  YQLANDA 

honest  friend  has  told  you  so  and  so,  he  may  doubt 
you,  but  tell  him  that  God  tells  you,  and  he  will 
swallow  your  hook.  If  you  would  have  your  lie 
believed,  tell  a  great  one. 

Charles,  more  credulous  and  gullible  than  I  should 
have  believed,  turned  to  Hymbercourt.  He  spoke 
reverentially,  being,  you  understand,  in  the  presence 
of  a  miracle  :  — 

«  This  is  a  wondrous  happening,  my  lord,"  said  the 
duke. 

"If  it  happened,  Your  Grace,"  returned  Hymber 
court,  "  it  certainly  was  marvellous." 

« Don't  you  think  it  did  happen  ?  Do  not  you 
believe  that  this  bolt  came  from  the  hand  that  was 
seen  by  these  worthy  friars  ? "  asked  the  duke. 

"  The  shaft  surely  did  not  come  from  a  just  God, 
my  lord,"  returned  Hymbercourt. 

"  Whence,  then,  did  it  come  ? "  asked  the  duke. 
"  No  arquebuse  has  been  found,  and  a  careful  scru 
tiny  has  been  made." 

"  Aye  !  "  echoed  the  friars.  "  Whence  else  did  it 
come  ?  Whence,  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt,  whence  ?  " 

I  had  noticed  our  Irish  servant  Michael  standing 
near  one  of  the  friars.  At  this  point  in  the  conver 
sation  the  Irishman  plucked  me  by  the  sleeve, 
pointed  to  a  friar,  and  whispered  a  word  in  my  ear. 
Like  a  stone  from  a  catapult  I  sprang  on  the  friar 
indicated,  threw  him  to  the  ground,  and  drew  from 
under  his  black  cassock  an  arquebuse. 


TRIAL  BY  COMBAT  347 

"  Here  is  the  shaft  from  God  !  "  I  exclaimed,  hold 
ing  the  arquebuse  up  to  view.  Then  I  kneeled  on 
the  prostrate  wretch  and  clutched  his  throat.  Anger 
gathered  in  my  brain  as  lightning  clusters  about  a 
mountain  top.  I  threw  aside  the  arquebuse  and  pro 
ceeded  to  kill  the  canting  mendicant.  I  do  not 
know  that  I  killed  him ;  I  hope  I  did.  I  cannot 
speak  with  certainty  on  that  point,  for  I  was  quickly 
thrown  away  from  him  by  the  avenging  mob  that 
rushed  upon  us  and  tore  the  fellow  limb  from  limb. 
The  other  friars  were  set  upon  by  the  populace  that 
had  witnessed  the  combat  from  without  the  lists, 
arid  were  beaten  so  unmercifully  that  one  of  them 
died.  Of  the  other's  fate  I  know  nothing,  but  I  have 
my  secret  desires. 

"  Kill  the  Italians  !  Murder  the  assassins !  Down 
with  the  mercenaries,"  cried  the  populace,  who  hated 
the  duke's  guard.  The  barriers  were  broken  down, 
and  an  interesting  battle  ensued.  Surely  the  people 
got  their  full  satisfaction  of  blood  and  excitement 
that  day.  The  Italians  drew  their  swords,  but,  being 
separated,  they  were  at  a  disadvantage,  though  their 
assailants  carried  only  staves.  I  expected  the  duke 
to  stop  the  fight,  but  he  withdrew  to  a  little  distance 
and  watched  it  with  evident  interest.  My  interest 
was  more  than  evident ;  it  was  uproarious.  I  have 
never  spent  so  enjoyable  a  day.  The  fight  raged 
after  Max  and  I  left,  and  there  was  many  a  sore 


348  YOLANDA 

head  and  broken  bone  that  night  among  the  Italian 
mercenaries  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. 

When  Max  and  I  returned  to  Peronne,  we  went  to 
the  noble  church  of  St.  Jean  and  offered  our  humble 
gratitude.  Max,  having  thrown  off  his  anger,  pro 
posed  to  buy  a  mass  for  the  dead  friar;  but  I  was  for 
leaving  him  in  purgatory  where  he  belonged,  and  Max, 
as  usual,  took  my  advice. 

On  reaching  the  inn,  Max  cried  loudly  for  supper. 
His  calmness  would  have  done  credit  to  a  hardened 
warrior.  There  was  at  least  one  hardened  warrior 
that  was  not  calm.  I  was  wrought  almost  to  a  pitch  of 
frenzy  and  could  not  eat,  though  the  supper  prepared 
by  Grote  was  a  marvel  in  its  way.  The  old  man, 
usually  grave  and  crusty,  after  the  manner  of  German 
hosts,  actually  bent  his  knee  to  Max  and  said :  — 

"  My  poor  house  has  entertained  kings  and  princes  ; 
but  never  has  it  had  so  great  an  honor  as  that  which 
it  now  has  in  sheltering  you." 

That  night  the  duke  came  with  Hymbercourt  to 
honor  us  at  the  inn.  Each  spoke  excitedly  and 
warmly.  Max  seemed  to  be  the  only  calm  man  in 
Peronne. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

YOLANDA   OR    THE    PRINCESS? 

AFTER  these  adventures  we  could  no  longer  con 
ceal  Max's  identity,  and  it  soon  became  noised 
about  that  he  was  Count  of  Hapsburg.  But  Styria 
was  so  far  away,  and  so  little  known,  even  to 
courtiers  of  considerable  rank,  that  the  fact  made  no 
great  stir  in  Peronne.  To  Frau  Kate  and  Twonette 
the  disclosure  came  with  almost  paralyzing  effect. 

The  duke  remained  with  us  until  late  in  the  night, 
so  Max  and  I  did  not  go  over  to  the  House  under  the 
Wall.  When  we  were  alone  in  our  room,  Max  said  : 

"  The  Princess  Mary  has  treated  me  as  if  I  were  a 
boy." 

"  She  saved  your  life,"  I  returned.  "  Calli  would 
certainly  have  killed  you  had  she  not  acted  quickly." 

"  I  surely  owe  her  my  life,"  said  Max,  "  though 
I  have  little  knowledge  of  what  happened  after  I  fell 
from  my  horse  until  I  rose  to  my  feet  by  her  help. 
I  complain  of  her  conduct  in  deceiving  me  by  pre 
tending  to  be  a  burgher  maiden.  It  was  easily  done, 
Karl,  but  ungraciously." 

"  You  are  now  speaking  of  Yolanda,"  I  said,  not 

349 


350  YOLANDA 

knowing  what  the  wishes  of  the  princess  might  be  in 
regard  to  enlightening  him.  He  looked  at  me  and 
answered  :  — 

"  Karl,  if  a  woman's  face  is  burned  on  a  man's 
heart,  he  knows  it  when  he  sees  it." 

"  You  know  Yolanda's  face,  certainly,  and  I  doubt 
if  Yolanda  will  thank  you  for  mistaking  another's  for 
it." 

"  I  have  made  no  mistake,  Karl,"  he  answered. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure,"  I  replied.  "  The  girl  you 
placed  in  my  arms  seemed  taller  by  half  a  head  than 
Yolanda.  I  noticed  her  while  she  was  standing. 
She  seemed  rounder  and  much  heavier  in  form  ;  but  I, 
too,  thought  she  was  Yolanda,  and,  after  all,  you  may 
be  right." 

"  I  caught  but  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  and  that 
poorly,"  said  Max.  "  It  is  difficult  to  see  anything 
looking  downward  out  of  a  helmet ;  one  must  look 
straight  ahead.  But  the  glimpse  I  had  of  her  face 
satisfied  me." 

"Do  not  be  too  sure,  Max.  I  once  took  another 
man  for  myself."  Max  laughed.  "  I  am  sure  no  one 
could  have  told  us  apart.  He  was  the  Pope,  and 
I  his  cousin.  Yolanda  herself  once  told  me  —  I  be 
lieve  she  has  also  told  you  —  that  she  has  the  honor 
to  resemble  the  princess." 

I  did  not  wish  to  lie  to  Max,  and  you  will  note 
that  I  did  not  say  the  princess  was  not  Yolanda. 


YOLANDA  OR   THE   PRINCESS?  351 

Still,  I  wished  him  to  remain  ignorant  upon  the 
important  question  until  Yolanda  should  see  fit  to 
enlighten  him.  I  was  not  sure  of  her  motive  in 
maintaining  the  alias,  though  I  was  certain  it  was 
more  than  a  mere  whim.  How  great  it  was  I  could 
not  know.  Should  she  persist  in  it  I  would  help 
her  up  to  the  point  of  telling  Max  a  downright  false 
hood.  There  I  wrould  stop. 

We  spent  two  evenings  at  Castleman's,  but  did  not 
see  Yolanda.  On  the  first  evening,  after  an  hour  of 
listlessness,  Max  hesitatingly  asked  :  — 

«  Where  is  Yo  —  that  is,  the  princess  has  not  been 
here  this  evening." 

«  The  princess  !  "  exclaimed  Frau  Kate.  «  No,  she 
has  not  been  here  this  evening  —  nor  the  duke,  nor 
the  king  of  France.  No  titled  person,  Sir  Count, 
save  yourself,  has  honored  us  to-day.  Our  poor  roof 
shelters  few  such." 

"  I  mean  Yolanda,"  said  Max.  Good-natured  Frau 
Kate  laughed  softly,  and  Twonette  said,  with  smiling 
serenity  :  — 

«  Yolanda's  head  will  surely  be  turned,  Sir  Count, 
when  she  hears  you  have  called  her  the  princess.  So 
much  greatness  thrust  upon  her  will  make  it  impos 
sible  for  us  to  live  with  her." 

«  She  rules  us  all  as  it  is,  sweet  soul,"  said  Castle- 
man. 

"Yolanda   is    ill   upstairs,  Sir  Count,"  said    Frau 


362  YOLANDA 

Kate.  "  She  wanted  to  come  down  this  evening,  but 
I  commanded  otherwise.  Twonette,  go  to  her.  She 
will  be  lonely." 

Twonette  rose,  courtesied,  and  departed.  This 
splendid  bit  of  acting  almost  made  me  doubt  that 
Yolanda  was  the  princess,  and  it  shook  Max's  convic 
tion  to  its  very  foundation. 

I  wish  to  warn  you  that  the  deception  practised 
upon  Max  by  Yolanda  will  seem  almost  impossible, 
except  on  the  hypothesis  that  Max  was  a  very  simple 
fellow.  But  the  elaborate  scheme  designed  and  exe 
cuted  by  this  girl,  with  the  help  of  the  Castlemans 
and  myself,  —  all  of  whom  Max  had  no  reason  to  dis 
trust,  —  would  have  deceived  any  man.  Max,  though 
simple  and  confiding  where  he  trusted,  —  judging 
others'  good  faith  by  his  own,  —  was  shrewd  for  his 
years,  and  this  plan  of  Yolanda's  had  to  be  faultless, 
as  it  really  was,  to  mislead  him. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  after  the  trial  by 
combat,  Yolanda  made  her  appearance  at  Castleman's, 
looking  pale  and  large-eyed.  Max  and  I  had  walked 
down  to  the  House  under  the  Wall  before  going  to 
dine  with  the  duke.  Soon  after  we  were  seated 
Twonette  left,  and  within  five  minutes  Yolanda  came 
suddenly  upon  us  in  the  long  parlor.  She  ran  to  Max, 
grasping  both  his  hands.  For  a  moment  she  could 
only  say,  "Max,  Max,"  and  he  remained  silent. 

When  she  recovered  control  of  her  voice  she  said  :  — 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PRINCESS?  353 

«  How  proud  we  are  of  you,  Sir  Max  !  Uncle  and 
aunt  have  told  me  how  brave  and  merciful  you  were 
at  the  combat." 

"  Your  Highness  surely  knows  all  that  can  be  told 
on  the  subject,  since  you  were  there  and  took  so 
active  a  part  in  the  adventure,"  answered  Max.  "  It 
is  I  who  should  be  grateful,  and  I  am.  I  owe  my 
life  to  Your  Highness." 

"  You  honor  me  too  much,  Sir  Max,"  said  Yo- 
landa,  looking  up  with  surprise  and  bowing  low 
before  him.  "Let  my  elevation  be  gradual  that  I 
may  grow  accustomed  to  my  rank.  Make  of  me 
first  a  great  lady,  and  then,  say,  a  countess.  After 
ward,  if  I  prove  worthy,  call  me  princess." 

"  We  will  call  you  a  princess  now,  Your  Highness," 
answered  Max,  not  to  be  driven  from  his  position. 

"Very  well,"  cried  Yolanda,  with  a  laugh  and  a 
sweeping  courtesy.  "  If  you  will  have  me  a  prin 
cess,  a  princess  I'll  be.  But  I  will  not  be  the  Prin 
cess  of  Burgundy.  She  saved  your  life,  and  I  am 
jealous  of  her — I  hate  her." 

She  stamped  her  foot,  and  the  angry  gleam  in  her 
eyes  was  genuine.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that 
she  was  jealous  of  the  princess.  I  could  not  account 
for  her  unique  attitude  toward  herself  save  on  one 
hypothesis :  she  was,  even  to  herself,  two  distinct 
persons.  Yolanda  was  a  happy  burgher  girl ;  Mary 
was  a  wretched  princess.  The  two  widely  differing 

2A 


354  YOLANDA 

conditions  under  which  she  lived  were  so  distinct,  and 
were  separated  by  a  gulf  so  broad,  that  to  her  the 
princess  and  the  burgher  girl  were  in  no  way  related. 

With  change  of  condition  there  was  always  a 
change  of  person.  The  unhappy  princess  would  come 
down  the  stairway  in  the  wall ;  God  would  kindly 
touch  her,  and  lo !  she  was  transformed  into  a  happy 
Yolanda.  Yolanda's  light  feet  would  climb  the  dark 
stone  steps,  and  God  was  once  more  a  frowning 
father.  There  must  also  be  added  Max's  share  in 
her  emotions.  Perhaps  she  feared  the  princess  as  she 
would  have  dreaded  a  rival ;  since  she  longed  with  all 
her  passionate,  tender  heart  to  win  Max  for  herself 
only.  It  would  have  been  an  easy  task,  as  princess, 
to  win  him  or  any  man ;  but  if  she  could  win  him  as 
Yolanda,  the  burgher  girl,  the  prize  would  be  the 
greatest  that  could  fall  to  a  woman. 

The  true  situation  dawned  upon  me  as  I  stood 
before  Max  and  watched  Yolanda.  I  thought  of  her 
adroit  plan  to  make  trouble  with  France,  and  I 
wanted  to  shout  for  joy.  The  impossible  might  yet 
happen.  God's  hand  surely  had  been  in  our  journey 
ing  to  Burgundy.  Max  might  yet  win  this  peerless 
princess,  this  priceless  girl ;  or,  reverse  it  if  you 
choose,  Mary  of  Burgundy  might  win  this  peerless 
man,  and  might  at  the  same  time  attain  the  unutter 
able  joy  of  knowing  that  she  had  won  him  for  her 
own  sake. 


YOLAJSTDA   OR   THE  PRINCESS?  355 

Perhaps  her  yearning  had  led  her  to  hope  that  he 
might  in  the  end  be  willing  to  fling  behind  him  his 
high  estate  for  the  sake  of  a  burgher  girl.  Then, 
when  she  had  brought  him  to  that  resolution,  what 
a  joy  it  would  be  to  turn  upon  him  and  say  :  « I  am 
not  a  burgher  girl.  I  am  Princess  Mary  of  Burgundy, 
and  all  these  things  which  you  are  willing  to  forego 
for  my  sake  you  may  keep,  and  you  may  add  to 
them  the  fair  land  of  Burgundy  ! "  Her  high  estate 
and  rich  domains,  now  the  tokens  of  her  thralldom, 
would  then  be  her  joy,  since  she  could  give  them  to 
Max. 

While  these  bright  hopes  were  filling  my  mind, 
Yolanda  was  playing  well  her  part.  She,  too,  evi 
dently  meant  to  tell  no  lies,  though  she  might  be 
forced  to  act  many.  Her  fiery  outburst  against  the 
Princess  of  Burgundy  astonished  Max  and  almost 
startled  me.  Still,  the  conviction  was  strong  with 
him  that  Yolanda  was  Mary. 

"  If  —  if  you  are  the  princess,  Yo  —  Yolanda,"  said 
Max,  evidently  wavering,  "it  were  ungracious  to 
deceive  me." 

"  But  I  am  the  princess,"  cried  Yolanda,  lifting  her 
head  and  walking  majestically  to  and  fro.  "  Address 
me  not  by  that  low,  plebeian  name,  Yolanda." 

She  stepped  upon  a  chair  and  thence  to  the  top 
of  the  great  oak  table  that  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  Drawing  the  chair  up  after  her  she  placed 


356  YOLANDA 

it  on  the  table,  and,  seating  herself  on  this  improvised 
throne,  lifted  one  knee  over  the  other,  after  the  man 
ner  of  her  father.  She  looked  serenely  about  her 
in  a  most  amusing  imitation  of  the  duke,  and  spoke 
with  a  deep  voice  :  — 

"Heralds!" 

No  one  responded.  So  she  filled  the  office  of 
herald  herself  and  cried  out :  — 

"Oyez  !  Oyez  !  The  princess  now  gives  audience!" 
Resuming  the  ducal  voice,  she  continued,  "  Are  there 
complaints,  my  Lord  Seneschal  ?  "  A  pause.  "  Ah, 
our  guards  have  stolen  Grion's  cow,  have  they  ? 
The  devil  take  Grion  and  his  cow,  too !  Hang 
Grion  for  complaining."  A  pause  ensues  while 
the  duke  awaits  the  next  report.  "  The  Swiss  have 
stolen  a  sheepskin  ?  Ah,  we'll  skin  the  Swiss.  My 
Lord  Seneschal,  find  me  fifty  thousand  men  who  are 
ready  to  die  for  a  sheepskin.  Body  of  me  !  A  sheep 
skin  !  I  do  love  it  well." 

Yolanda's  audience  was  roaring  with  laughter  by 
this  time,  but  her  face  was  stern  and  calm. 

"Silence,  you  fools,"  she  cried  hoarsely,  but  no 
one  was  silent,  and  Max  laughed  till  the  tears  came 
to  his  eyes.  Yolanda  on  her  throne  was  so  irresist 
ibly  bewitching  that  he  ran  to  her  side,  grasped  her 
about  the  waist,  and  unceremoniously  lifted  her  to 
the  floor.  When  she  was  on  her  feet,  he  raised  her 
hand  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it,  saying :  — 


YOLANDA  OK  THE  PKINCESS?  357 

«  Yolanda  or  Mary  —  it's  all  one  to  me.  There  is 
not  another  like  you  in  all  the  world." 

She  drew  herself  up  haughtily:  "  Sir,  this  indignity 
shall  cost  you  dear,"  and  turning  her  back  on  him 
she  moved  away  three  or  four  paces.  Then  she 
stopped  and  glanced  over  her  shoulder.  His  face 
had  lost  its  smile,  and  she  knew  the  joke  had  gone 
far  enough;  so  the  dimples  began  to  cluster  about  the 
quivering  corners  of  her  mouth,  the  long  black  lashes 
fell  for  a  moment,  a  soft  radiance  came  to  her  eyes, 
and  she  asked  :  — 

"  Which  shall  it  be,  Sir  Max,  Yolanda  or  the 
princess  ?  " 

« Yolanda,"  cried  Max,  huskily,  while  he  held  out 
his  hands  to  her.  Quick  as  the  movement  of  a  kitten, 
she  sprang  to  him  and  allowed  his  arms  to  close 
about  her  for  one  brief  moment.  While  one  might 
count  ten  she  rested  her  head  on  his  breast,  but  all  too 
quickly  she  turned  her  face  to  his  and  whispered :  — 

"  Are  you  sure  ?     Is  it  Yolanda  ?  " 

«  Yes,  yes,  Yolanda.  Thank  God  !  it  is  Yolanda," 
he  replied,  placing  his  hand  before  his  eyes.  She 
slipped  from  his  arms,  and  Max,  too  deeply  moved  to 
speak,  walked  over  to  the  window  and  looked  out 
upon  the  frowning  walls  of  Peronne  the  Impregnable. 
There  was  irony  for  you ! 

Probably  Max  was  not  sure  that  Yolanda  was 
Yolanda;  but,  if  he  was,  conviction  had  come 


358  YOLANDA 

through  his  emotions,  and  it  might  be  temporary. 
He  was,  however,  soon  to  be  convinced  by  evidence 
so  cunningly  constructed  that  he  was  compelled  to 
abandon  the  testimony  of  his  own  eyes  and  accept 
that  of  seemingly  incontestable  facts. 

"  We  are  to  dine  privately  with  the  duke  at  twelve 
o'clock,"  I  said,  while  Max  was  standing  at  the 
window. 

"  Indeed  ?  "  asked  Yolanda,  arching  her  eyebrows ; 
surprise  and  displeasure  evident  in  her  voice.  She 
glanced  at  the  great  clock,  then  looked  toward  Max, 
and  said  :  — 

"  It  lacks  but  thirty  minutes  of  that  time  now,  and 
I  suppose  I  shall  soon  lose  you." 

Max  turned  from  the  window,  saying :  — 

"  Yes,  we  must  go,  or  we  shall  be  late." 

"  Does  the  princess  dine  with  you  ? "  asked  Yo 
landa, 

« I  do  not  know,  Fraulein,"  answered  Max.  There 
upon  Yolanda  left  the  room  pouting,  and  we  took  our 
departure,  having  promised  to  return  to  Castleman's 
after  dinner. 

We  went  at  once  to  the  castle  ;  and  thirty  minutes 
after  leaving  Castleman's  we  were  in  the  small  parlor 
or  talking  room  of  Duchess  Margaret,  where  the 
famous  letter  to  the  king  of  France  had  been  signed 
by  Duke  Charles.  When  we  entered  we  saw  the 
duchess  and  the  princess  sitting  upon  the  divan. 


YOLANDA  OR   THE  PRINCESS?  359 

The  duke  was  in  his  great  oak  chair,  and  Hymber- 
court  and  two  other  gentlemen  were  standing  near 
by.  I  made  obeisance  to  Charles  on  bended  knee. 
He  rose  to  receive  Max,  and,  after  a  slight  hesitation, 
offered  his  hand,  saying  :  — 

"  You  are  welcome,  my  Lord  Count." 

A  year  had  passed  since  I  had  heard  Max  addressed 
as  "  my  lord,"  and  the  words  sounded  strange  to 
my  ears.  I  turned  quickly  toward  the  princess, 
expecting  to  see  a  sparkle  of  mirth  in  her  eyes,  but 
Yolanda's  ever  present  smile  was  wholly  lacking. 
The  countenance  of  the  princess  was  calm,  immov 
able,  and  expressionless  as  a  mirror.  I  could  hardly 
believe  that  it  was  the  radiant,  bedimpled,  pouting  face 
I  had  just  seen  at  Castleman's,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  all  my  experience  I  realized  that  I  was  face  to  face 
with  a  dual  personality.  The  transformation  was  so 
complete  that  I  might  easily  have  been  duped  had  I 
not  known  beyond  peradventure  the  identity  of  Yo- 
landa  and  Mary. 

After  the  duke  had  kindly  saluted  Max,  His  Grace 
presented  us  to  the  ladies.  When  the  princess  rose 
to  receive  us,  she  seemed  at  least  half  a  head  taller 
than  Yolanda.  Her  hair  was  hidden,  and  her  face 
seemed  fuller.  These  changes  were  probably  wrought 
by  her  head-dress,  which  towered  in  two  great  curved 
horns  twelve  inches  high.  She  wore  a  long,  flowing 
gown  that  trailed  two  yards  behind  her,  and  this 


360  YOLANDA 

added  to  her  apparent  height.  Max  had  seen  Yolanda 
only  in  the  short  skirts  of  a  burgher  girl's  costume. 

When  Max  rose,  after  kneeling  before  the  princess, 
he  gazed  into  her  eyes,  but  the  glance  he  received  in 
return  was  calm  and  cold.  Yolanda  was  rich,  red  wine, 
hot  and  strong;  the  princess  was  cold,  clear  water. 
The  one  was  exhilarating,  at  times  intoxicating ; 
the  other  was  chilling.  The  face  of  the  princess, 
though  beautiful,  was  touched  with  disdain.  Every 
attitude  was  one  of  dignity  and  hauteur.  Her  words, 
though  not  lacking  intelligence,  were  commonplace, 
and  her  voice  was  that  of  her  father's  daughter. 
Yolanda  was  a  girl ;  the  princess  was  a  woman.  The 
metamorphosis  was  complete,  and  Max's  hallucination, 
I  felt  sure,  would  be  cured.  The  princess's  face  was 
not  burned  on  his  heart,  whatever  might  be  true  of 
Yolanda's.  I  can  give  no  stronger  testimony  to  the 
marvellous  quality  of  the  change  this  girl  had  wrought 
in  herself  than  to  tell  you  that  even  I  began  to  doubt, 
and  wonder  if  Yolanda  had  tricked  me.  The  effect 
on  Max  was  instantaneous.  After  looking  into  the 
princess's  face,  he  said  :  — 

"  I  wish  to  thank  Your  Highness  for  saving  my  life. 
I  surely  had  been  killed  but  for  your  timely  help." 

The  situation  bordered  on  the  ridiculous. 

"  Do  not  thank  me,  my  Lord  Count,"  responded 
the  princess,  in  cold  and  measured  words.  "  I  should 
have  done  the  same  for  any  man  in  your  hard  case. 


YOLANDA  OR   THE  PRINCESS?  361 

I  once  saved  a  yokel  in  like  manner.  Two  common 
men  were  fighting  with  staves.  One  would  have 
beaten  the  other  to  death  had  I  not  entered  the  lists 
and  parted  them.  Father  feared  a  similar  exhibition 
on  my  part  and  did  not  wish  me  to  attend  your  com 
bat.  He  says  now  that  I  shall  go  to  no  more.  I  cer 
tainly  made  myself  ridiculous.  I  enjoy  a  fair  fight, 
whatever  the  outcome  may  be,  but  I  despise  murder. 
My  act  was  entirely  impersonal,  Sir  Count." 

"  On  the  lists  I  addressed  Your  Highness  as 
<  Yolanda,'  "  said  Max.  "  Your  resemblance  to  one 
whom  I  know  well  was  so  great  as  to  deceive  me." 

I  was  eager  to  take  Max  away  from  the  dangerous 
situation,  but  I  could  not.  The  duke,  the  courtiers, 
and  myself  had  moved  several  paces  from  Max  and  the 
princess.  I,  however,  kept  my  eyes  and  ears  open  to 
what  occurred  between  them. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  princess,  haughtily,  "  I  remem 
ber  you  so  addressed  me.  I  have  heard  of  the  person 
to  whom  you  refer.  She  is,  I  believe,  a  niece  of  one 
Castleman,  a  burgher  of  Peronne.  I  know  Castle- 
man's  daughter  —  a  simple  creature,  with  no  pretence 
of  being  else.  It  has  been  said  that  —  what  do  they 
call  her  ?  Yolanda,  I  believe  —  resembles  me  in  some 
respects  and  is  quite  proud  of  the  distinction.  I  am 
sure  I  thank  no  one  for  the  compliment,  since  she  is  a 
low  creature,  but  I  accept  your  apology,  my  Lord 
Count." 


362  YOLANDA 

"  I  do  not  apologize,  Your  Highness,"  answered  Max, 
in  tones  of  equal  hauteur.  "  You  probably  do  not 
know  the  lady  of  whom  you  speak." 

The  princess  seemed  to  increase  by  an  inch  or  two 
in  stature  as  she  drew  herself  up,  and  answered :  — 

"  Of  course  we  do  not  know  her." 

"  If  you  knew  her,  Your  Highness  would  apologize," 
retorted  Max. 

Seeing  the  angry  color  mounting  to  his  face,  I 
stepped  to  his  side  and  joined  in  the  conversation. 
Presently  dinner  was  announced,  and  I  rejoiced 
when  we  parted  from  the  princess.  Turning  our 
faces  toward  the  ladies,  we  moved  backward  from 
the  room,  and  went  with  the  duke  to  the  dinner  hall. 

Compared  with  Castleman's  daily  fare,  the  duke's 
dinner  was  almost  unpalatable.  We  had  coarse  beef, 
coarse  boar's  meat,  coarse  bread,  —  not  black,  but 
brown.  Frau  Kate's  bread  was  like  snow.  The  sour 
wine  on  the  duke's  table  set  our  teeth  on  edge, 
though  it  was  served  in  huge  golden  goblets  studded 
with  rare  gems.  At  each  guest's  plate  was  a  jewelled 
dagger.  The  tablecloth  was  of  rich  silk,  soiled  by 
numberless  stains.  Leeks  and  garlic  were  the  only 
vegetables  served. 

Nothing  of  importance  occurred  at  the  table,  but 
after  dinner  the  duke  abruptly  offered  Max  a  large 
sum  of  gold  to  accompany  him  to  Switzerland.  Max 
thanked  His  Grace  and  said  he  would  give  him  an 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PKINCESS?  363 

answer  soon.  The  duke  urged  an  early  reply,  and 
Max  said :  — 

"  With  Your  Grace's  permission  we  will  attend  to 
morrow's  morning  audience,  and  will  make  our  answer 
after  Your  Lordship  has  risen." 

Charles  acquiesced,  and  we  soon  left  the  castle. 
The  duke,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  was  very  rich. 
Hymbercourt  once  told  me  that  he  had  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  gold  crowns  in  his  coffers  at  Lux 
embourg.  That  was  probably  more  than  the  com 
bined  treasuries  of  any  two  kings  in  Europe  could 
show.  Max  arid  I  were  short  of  money,  and  the  sum 
that  the  duke  offered  seemed  enormous.  Neither 
Max  nor  his  father,  Duke  Frederick,  had  ever  possessed 
as  much  money  at  one  time. 

While  we  were  leisurely  walking  across  the  court 
yard  toward  the  Postern,  three  ladies  and  two  gentle 
men,  accompanied  by  outriders  and  pages  carrying 
falcons,  rode  by  us  and  passed  out  through  the  Postern. 
We  followed,  and  overtook  them  at  the  town  end  of 
the  drawbridge,  where  they  had  halted.  When  we 
came  up  to  them,  we  recognized  the  duchess  and  the 
princess.  The  duchess  bowed  smilingly,  but  the  prin 
cess  did  not  speak,  though  she  looked  in  our  direction. 

The  cavalcade  turned  to  the  left,  and  went  up  a 
narrow  street  toward  Cambrai  Gate,  evidently  bound 
for  the  marshes.  Max  and  I  walked  straight  ahead 
toward  the  Cologne  bridge,  intending,  as  we  had 


364  YOLANDA 

promised,  to  go  back  to  Castleman's.  Two  hun 
dred  yards  up  the  street  I  glanced  back,  and  saw 
a  lady  riding  through  the  Postern,  back  to  the 
castle.  I  knew  at  once  that  the  princess  had  re 
turned,  and  I  was  sure  of  meeting  Yolanda, — sweet, 
smiling,  tender  Yolanda,  —  at  the  dear  old  House 
under  the  Wall.  I  did  not  like  the  princess ;  she 
was  cold,  haughty,  supercilious,  and  perhaps  tinged 
with  her  father's  cruelty.  I  longed  ardently  for 
Yolanda  to  come  out  of  her  skin,  and  my  heart  leaped 
with  joy  at  the  early  prospect. 

I  was  right  in  my  surmise.     Yolanda's  sweet  face, 

/   radiant    with   smiles    and    soft   with    dimples,    was 

pressed    against    the    window-pane   watching    for  us 

when    we   crossed  the  moat   bridge   at  Castleman's 

door. 

"  To  see  her  face  again  is  like  coming  back  to 
heaven  ;  isn't  it,  Karl  ?  "  said  Max. 

Yolanda  ran  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 

"  I  am  glad  you  did  not  stay  with  her,"  she  said, 
giving  a  hand  to  Max  and  to  me,  and  walking  into 
the  room  between  us.  She  was  like  a  child  hold 
ing  our  hands. 

I  had  seen  the  world  and  its  people  in  all  its 
phases,  and  I  prided  myself  on  my  shrewdness,  but 
without  my  knowledge  of  the  stairway  in  the  wall, 
I  would  have  sworn  that  Yolanda  had  played  a  trick 
on  me  by  leading  me  to  believe  that  she  was  the 


YOLANDA  OR  THE   PRINCESS?  365 

Princess  Mary.  Even  with  full  knowledge  of  all 
the  facts,  I  found  myself  doubting.  It  is  small  cause 
for  wonder,  therefore,  that  Max  was  deceived. 

"  Uncle  is  at  the  shop,"  said  Yolanda.  «  Tante  is  at 
a  neighbor's,  and  Twonette,  of  course,  is  asleep.  We 
three  will  sit  here  on  this  bench  with  no  one  to 
disturb  us,  and  I  shall  have  you  both  all  to  my 
self.  No !  There  !  I'll  sit  between  you.  Now, 
this  is  delightful." 

She  sat  between  us,  crossed  her  knees  —  an  un- 
pardonable  crime,  Frau  Kate  would  have  thought 
—  and  giving  a  hand  to  Max  and  to  me,  said  con 
tentedly  :  — 

"  Now,  tell  me  all  about  it." 

I  was  actually  on  the  point  of  beginning  a  narra 
tive  of  our  adventures,  just  as  if  she  did  not  already 
know  them,  —  so  great  was  the  spell  she  had  thrown 
over  me,  —  when  Max  spoke  :  — 

"  We  had  a  poor  dinner,  but  a  kind  host,  there 
fore  a  fine  feast.  The  duke  has  asked  us  to  go  to 
Switzerland  with  him.  Judging  by  the  enormous 
sum  he  offers  for  our  poor  services,  he  must  believe 
that  he  will  need  no  other  help  to  conquer  the 
Swiss." 

« Yes  —  yes,  that  is  interesting,"  said  Yolanda, 
hastily,  "  but  the  princess  —  tell  me  of  her." 

"  She  is  a  very  beautiful  princess,"  answered  Max. 

«Yes  —  I  suppose  she  is,"  answered  Yolanda.     "I 


366  YOLANDA 

have  it  dinned  into  my  ears  till  I  ought  to  believe 
it ;  but  tell  me  of  her  manner,  her  conversation,  her 
temper.  What  of  them  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  most  beautiful  princess,"  answered  Max, 
evidently  intending  to  utter  no  word  against  Her 
Highness,  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  did  not 
like  her  at  all.  "  I  am  sure  she  deserves  all  the 
good  that  fame  speaks  of  her." 

Yolanda  flung  our  hands  from  her,  sprang  to  her 
feet,  and  faced  us  angrily. 

"That's  the  way  with  all  men.  A  rich  princess, 
even  though  she  be  a  cold  devil,  is  beautiful  and  good 
and  gentle  and  wise  and  true  and  quick  of  wit.  Men 
care  not  what  she  is  if  her  house  be  great  and  rich 
and  powerful.  If  her  domains  are  fat  and  broad,  she 
deserves  <  all  the  good  that  fame  speaks  of  her.' 
She  can  win  no  man  for  herself.  She  cannot  touch 
a  man's  heart ;  she  can  only  satisfy  his  greed.  You 
went  to  the  castle,  Sir  Max,  to  see  this  princess. 
You  want  Burgundy.  That  is  why  you  are  in 
Peronne ! " 

The  girl's  passionate  outburst  was  sincere,  and 
showed  me  her  true  motive  for  deceiving  Max.  Her 
plan  was  not  the  outgrowth  of  a  whim ;  it  was  the 
result  of  a  tremendous  motive  conceived  in  the  depths 
of  her  soul.  She  had  found  the  man  she  loved,  and 
was  taking  her  own  way  to  win  him,  if  she  could,  for 
herself.  She  judged  all  men  by  the  standard  that 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PRINCESS?  367 

she  had  just  announced.  She  would  never  believe  in 
the  love  of  a  man  who  should  woo  her  as  Princess 
Mary  of  Burgundy. 

Her  words  came  near  accomplishing  more  than  she 
desired.  When  she  stopped  speaking,  Max  leaned 
forward  and  gently  took  her  hand. 

"  Yolanda.  this  princess  is  nothing  to  me,  and  I 
swear  to  you  that  I  will  never  ask  her  to  marry  —  " 

A  frightened  gleam  came  to  the  girl's  eyes  when 
she  understood  the  oath  that  Max  was  about  to  take, 
and  she  quickly  placed  her  hand  over  his  mouth.  Max 
was  swearing  too  much. 

"  You  -shall  not  make  that  oath,  Little  Max,"  she 
said.  "  You  shall  not  say  that  you  will  never  marry 
her,  nor  shall  you  say  that  you  will  never  marry  any 
one  else.  You  must  remain  free  to  choose  the  right 
wife  when  the  right  time  comes.  You  must  tread  the 
path  that  God  has  marked  out  for  you.  Perhaps  it 
leads  to  this  princess ;  no  one  can  tell.  If  so,  you 
must  accept  your  fate,  Sir  Max."  She  sighed  at  the 
mere  thought  of  so  untoward  a  fate  for  Max. 

"  I  need  make  no  oath  not  to  marry  the  princess," 
answered  Max.  "  She  is  beyond  my  reach,  even 
though  I  were  dying  for  love  of  her." 

"  And  you  are  not  dying  for  love  of  her,  are  you  ?  " 
asked  Yolanda,  again  taking  the  seat  between  Max 
and  me. 

"  No,"  he  responded. 


368  YOLANDA 

"  Nor  for  love  of  any  woman  ?  "  she  asked,  looking 
toward  Max. 

"I'll  not  say  that,"  he  replied,  laughing  softly, 
and  taking  her  hands  between  his. 

"  No,  no,"  she  mused,  looking  in  re  very  out  the 
window.  "  No,  we  will  not  say  that." 

I  have  always  been  as  unsentimental  as  a  man  well 
can  be,  but  I  believe,  had  I  been  in  Max's  place,  I 
should  have  thrown  away  my  crown  for  the  sake  of 
Yolanda,  the  burgher  girl.  I  remember  wondering  if 
Max  would  be  strong  enough  finally  to  reach  the  same 
conclusion.  If  he  should  be,  my  faith  in  Yolanda's 
powers  led  me  to  believe  that  she  would  contrive  a 
plan  to  make  him  her  husband,  despite  her  father,  or 
the  devil  and  all  his  imps. 

There  is  a  power  of  finesse  in  the  feminine  mind 
that  no  man  may  fully  compass,  and  Yolanda,  in  that 
respect,  was  the  flower  of  her  sex.  That  she  had  been 
able  to  maintain  her  humble  personality  with  Max, 
despite  the  fact  that  she  had  been  compelled  to  meet 
him  twice  as  princess,  proved  her  ability.  Of  course, 
she  had  the  help  of  good  old  Castleman  and  his  sweet 
Frau  Kate,  serene  Twonette,  and  myself ;  but  with  all 
this  help  she  probably  would  have  failed  without  the 
stairway  in  the  wall. 

When  we  left  Castleman's,  I  did  not  bring  up  the 
subject  of  Mary  and  Yolanda.  Max  walked  silently 
beside  me  until  we  had  nearly  reached  the  inn,  when 
he  said :  — 


YOLANDA  OR   THE  PRINCESS?  369 

"  I  am  almost  glad  I  was  wrong,  Karl.  I  would 
not  have  Yolanda  other  than  she  is.  At  times,  wild 
thoughts  suggest  themselves  to  me ;  but  I  am  not  so 
weak  as  to  give  way  to  them.  I  drive  them  off  and 
clench  my  teeth,  determined  to  take  the  misery  God 
doles  out  to  me.  I  am  glad  we  are  soon  to  leave 
Burgundy.  The  duke  marches  in  three  days,  and  it 
is  none  too  soon  for  me." 

"  Shall  not  we  return  to  Burgundy  ? "  I  asked. 
"  I  want  you  to  see  Paris  and  Brussels,  and,  if  pos 
sible,  London  before  we  return  to  Styria.  Don't  you 
think  it  best  that  we  come  back  to  Peronne  after 
this  war  ?  " 

« You  are  right,  Karl ;  we  must  come  back,"  he 
answered.  "  I  do  not  fear  Yolanda.  I  am  not 
weak." 

"I  sometimes  wonder  if  we  know  our  strength 
from  our  weakness,"  I  suggested.  "  There  is  doubt 
less  much  energy  wasted  by  conscientious  men  striv 
ing  in  the  wrong  direction,  who  fancy  they  are  doing 
their  duty." 

«  You  would  not  have  me  marry  Yolanda  ?  "  asked 
Max,  a  gleam  of  light  coming  to  his  eyes. 

"I  do  not  know,  Max,"  I  responded.  "A  rare 
thing  has  happened  to  you.  You  have  won  a  mar 
vellous  love  from  a  marvellous  woman.  She  takes 
no  pains  to  conceal  it.  She  could  not  hide  it  if  she 
would.  What  you  feel,  only  you  and  God  know." 

2s 


370  YOLANDA 

"  Only  God,"  cried  Max,  huskily.  «  Only  God.  I 
cannot  measure  it." 

«  My  dear  boy,"  said  I,  taking  his  arm,  "  you  are  at 
a  point  where  you  must  decide  for  yourself." 

"  I  have  decided,"  returned  Max.  "  If  my  father 
and  mother  were  not  living,  I  might  —  I  might  — 
bah!  there  is  but  one  life  for  me.  I  am  doomed.  I 
make  myself  wretched  by  resistance." 

"  When  we  return  to  Peronne,  you  will  know  your 
mind,"  I  answered  soothingly. 

"  I  know  my  mind  now,"  he  answered.  « I  know 
that  I  would  give  half  the  years  of  my  life  to  possess 
Yolanda ;  but  I  also  know  the  fate  that  God  has 
marked  out  for  me." 

"Then  you  know  more  than  many  a  wise  man 
thrice  your  age  can  boast,"  said  I. 

The  duke's  armies  had  been  gathering  throughout 
Burgundy.  Men  had  come  in  great  numbers  to  camp 
near  Peronne,  and  the  town  was  noisy  with  mar 
tial  preparations.  Contrary  to  Hymbercourt's  advice, 
the  duke  was  leaving  Peronne  Castle  guarded  by 
only  a  small  garrison.  Charles  had  great  faith  in  the 
strength  of  Peronne  the  Impregnable,  and,  although 
it  was  near  the  French  border,  he  trusted  in  its 
strength  and  in  his  treaty  with  King  Louis.  He 
knew  from  experience  that  a  treaty  wTith  Louis  would 
bind  that  crafty  monarch  only  so  long  as  it  was  to 


YOLANDA   OB  THE  PRINCESS?  371 

his  interest  to  remain  bound ;  but  Louis'  interest  in 
maintaining  the  treaty  seemed  greater  than  Bur 
gundy's,  and  Charles  rested  on  that  fact.  Peronne 
was  to  be  left  captained  by  the  duchess  and  Mary, 
and  garrisoned  by  five  score  men-at-arms,  who  were 
either  too  old  or  too  young  to  go  to  war. 

Without  discussing  the  duke's  offer,  Max  and  I 
decided  to  accept  it,  though  for  different  reasons. 
Max  needed  the  gold ;  he  also  sniffed  battle,  and 
wanted  the  excitement  and  the  enterprise  of  war.  I 
had  all  his  reasons,  and  still  another;  I  wanted  to 
give  Yolanda  time  to  execute  her  plans. 

The  war  with  Switzerland  would  probably  be 
short.  Max  would  be  with  the  duke,  and  would, 
I  hoped,  augment  the  favor  with  which  Charles  al 
ready  honored  him.  Should  Yolanda's  letter  make 
trouble  with  France,  Duke  Charles  might  be  induced, 
through  his  personal  feelings,  to  listen  to  Max's  suit. 
If  Charles  returned  from  Switzerland  victorious  — 
and  no  other  outcome  seemed  possible  —  he  would  no 
longer  have  reason  to  carry  out  the  marriage  treaty 
with  France.  It  had  been  made  largely  for  the 
purpose  of  keeping  Louis  quiet  while  Charles  was 
absent.  Anything  might  happen;  everything  might 
happen,  while  Max  was  with  Charles  in  Switzerland 
and  Yolanda  at  home  making  trouble  with  France. 

The  next  day,  by  appointment,  we  waited  on  the 
duke  at  the  morning  audience.  When  we  entered 


372  YOLANDA 

the  great  hall,  the  urgent  business  had  been  trans 
acted,  and  half  a  score  of  lords  and  gentlemen  stood 
near  the  dais,  discussing  some  topic  with  the  duke 
and  with  one  another.  We  moved  near  the  throne, 
and  I  heard  Charles  say  to  Campo-Basso  and 
Hymbercourt :  — 

"  Almost  three  weeks  have  passed  since  our  mes 
sage  to  France,  and  we  have  had  no  answer.  What 
think  you,  gentlemen,  of  the  delay  ?  " 

"  His  Majesty  is  not  in  Paris,  or  delays  answering," 
said  Hymbercourt. 

"  By  the  Host,  if  I  could  think  that  King  Louis 
were  holding  Byron  and  delaying  an  answer,  I  would 
change  my  plans  and  march  on  Paris  rather  than  on 
Switzerland." 

"  I  fear,  my  lord,"  said  Campo-Basso,  with  a 
sympathetic  desire  to  make  trouble,  if  possible,  "  that 
His  Majesty  delays  an  answer  while  he  frames  one 
that  shall  be  elusive,  yet  conciliatory.  King  Louis, 
Your  Grace  knows,  thinks  many  times  before  each 
word  he  speaks  or  writes." 

"  If  he  has  intentionally  delayed  this  answer,  I'll 
give  him  cause  to  think  many  times  after  his  words," 
said  Charles. 

Conversations  of  like  nature  had  occurred  on  several 
occasions  since  the  sending  of  the  missive  to  Louis, 
and  they  offered  the  stormy  duke  opportunity  to  vent 
his  boastfulness  and  spleen.  While  Charles  was  pour- 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PRINCESS  ?  373 

ing  out  his  wrath  against  his  brother-in-law,  Byron, 
the  herald,  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  great  hall. 
He  announced  himself,  and,  when  ordered  to  approach, 
ran  to  the  dais,  kneeled  on  the  second  step,  and  placed 
a  small  sealed  packet  in  the  duke's  hand. 

"  Did  you  find  King  Louis  at  Paris  ? "  asked  the 
duke,  addressing  Byron. 

"  I  did,  my  lord." 

"  Paris  is  but  thirty  leagues  distant,  and  you  cer 
tainly  have  had  sufficient  time  since  leaving  us  to 
journey  across  Europe  and  back.  Did  not  I  com 
mand  you  to  make  haste  ?  " 

"  You  did,  my  lord,"  answered  the  herald.  "  King 
Louis  put  me  off  from  day  to  day,  always  promising 
me  an  answer,  but  giving  it  only  yesterday  afternoon 

(when  the  sun  was  half  below  the  horizon." 
Charles  nervously  broke  the  seals  of  the  package, 
and    attempted    to   read  the  letter.      He  failed,  and 
handed  it  to  Campo-Basso,  saying :  — 

"  Read  the  missive.  I  already  know  its  contents, 
but  read,  my  lord,  read." 

Campo-Basso  read  the  letter. 

"  To  Our  Most  Illustrious  Brother  Charles  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  and  Count  of  Charolois :  — 

"  We  recommend  us  and  send  Your  Grace  greeting. 
We  are  anxious  to  pleasure  our  noble  brother  of  Bur 
gundy  in  all  things,  and  heartily  desire  the  marriage  be- 


374  YOLANDA 

tween  our  son  and  the  illustrious  Princess  of  Burgundy, 
but  we  shall  not  move  toward  it  until  our  said  noble 
brother  shall  return  from  Switzerland,  nor  will  we  do 
aught  to  distract  his  attention  from  the  perilous  busi 
ness  he  now  has  on  hand.  We  pray  that  the  saints 
may  favor  his  design,  and  would  especially  recom 
mend  that  our  noble  brother  propitiate  with  prayers 
and  offerings  the  holy  Saint  Hubert.  We,  ourselves, 
have  importuned  this  holy  saint,  and  he  has  proved 
marvellously  helpful  on  parlous  occasions. 

"Louis,    R." 

The  duke's  anger  was  terrible  and  disgusting  to 
behold.  When  his  transports  of  rage  allowed  him 
to  speak,  he  broke  forth  with  oaths  too  blasphemous 
to  write  on  a  white  page. 

«  The  fawning  hypocrite  !  "  he  cried.  "  He  thinks 
to  cozen  us  with  his  cheap  words.  The  biting  insult 
in  his  missive  is  that  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  we 
are  so  great  a  fool  as  to  believe  him.  Even  his 
recommendation  of  a  saint  is  a  lie.  The  world  knows 
his  favorite  saint  is  Saint  Andrew.  King  Louis 
spends  half  his  time  grovelling  on  his  marrow  bones 
before  that  saint  and  the  Blessed  Virgin.  He  recom 
mends  to  us  Sairrt  Hubert,  believing  that  his  holy 
saintship  will  be  of  no  avail." 

Charles  was  right.  Sir  Philip  de  Comines,  senes 
chal  to  King  Louis,  afterward  told  me  that  His 


YQLANDA  OE  THE  PRINCESS?  375 

Majesty,  in  writing  this  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bur 
gundy,  actually  took  counsel  and  devoted  much  time 
and  thought  to  the  choice  of  a  baneful  or  impotent 
saint  to  recommend  to  his  "noble  brother  of  Bur 
gundy."  Disaster  to  Louis  had  once  followed  suppli 
cation  to  Saint  Hubert,  and  the  king  hoped  that  the 
worthy  saint  might  prove  equally  unpropitious  for 
Charles.  Yolanda's  wonderful  «  t  "  was  certainly  the 
most  stupendous  single  letter  ever  quilled.  Here 
were  the  first-fruits  of  it. 

"  Were  it  not  that  these  self-sufficient  Swiss  need 
to  be  blooded,  I  would  turn  my  army  against  France 
to-morrow,"  said  the  duke. 

"  And  have  Bourbon  and  Lorraine  upon  Your  Lord 
ship's  back  from  the  east,  Ghent  rebelling  in  the 
north,  and  the  Swiss  pouring  in  from  the  south," 
interrupted  Hymbercourt. 

"  You  are  certainly  right,  my  Lord  d'Hymbercourt," 
replied  Charles,  sullenly.  "  They  surround  us  like  a 
pack  of  starved  wolves,  ready  to  spring  upon  us  the 
moment  we  are  crippled.  Burgundy  stands  alone 
against  all  Europe." 

"  A  vast  treasure,  my  lord,  attracts  thieves,"  said 
Hymbercourt.  "Burgundy  is  the  richest  land  on 
earth." 

"  It  is,  indeed  it  is,"  replied  the  duke,  angrily,  "  and 
I  have  no  son  to  keep  it  after  me.  But  France  shall 
not  have  it ;  that  I  swear  upon  my  knighthood. 


376  YOLANDA 

Write  to  France,  my  Lord  Bishop  of  Cambrai,  and 
tell  King  Louis  that  my  daughter  shall  not  marry  his 
son.  Waste  no  words,  my  Lord  Bishop,  in  what  you 
call  courtesy.  We  need  no  double  meaning  in  our 
missives." 

Those  who  heard  the  duke's  words  knew  that  he 
was  committing  a  costly  error,  but  no  one  dared  to 
suggest  as  much.  One  might,  with  equal  success, 
have  flung  soft  words  at  a  mad  bull.  Truly  that  "  t  " 
—  but  I  will  speak  of  it  no  more,  though  I  have  a 
thrill  of  joy  and  mirth  even  now  when  I  think  of  it. 

After  many  explosions,  the  duke's  pent-up  wrath 
found  vent,  and  began  to  subside.  Espying  Max  and 
me  he  called  us  to  the  throne. 

"  Have  you  concluded  to  join  us  in  our  little  holi 
day  excursion  against  these  mountain  swine  ?  "  asked 
His  Grace,  addressing  us. 

"  We  have,  my  lord.  We  shall  be  proud  to  serve 
under  the  banner  of  so  brave  a  prince,"  I  answered. 

"  '  We  have  '  would  have  been  sufficient,  Sir  Karl," 
answered  the  duke,  still  surly  from  the  dregs  of  his 
wrath.  "We  hear  so  many  soft  words  from  France 
that  we  despise  them  in  the  mouths  of  honest  men." 

The  duke  then  turned  to  his  seneschal,  De  Vergy, 
and  spoke  in  tones  that  were  heard  all  over  the 
room  :  — 

"My  lord,  Maximilian,  Count  of  Hapsburg,  and 
Sir  Karl  de  Pitti  have  consented  to  join  our  banners. 


YOLAKDA  OE  THE  PRINCESS?  377 

Enroll  them  in  places  of  honor,  my  Lord  Seneschal. 
See  that  they  are  supplied  with  horses,  accoutrements, 
and  tents  for  themselves  and  their  squires,  and  direct 
my  Lord  Treasurer  to  pay  to  them  upon  demand  a 
sum  of  money  of  which  he  shall  be  duly  notified." 

When  the  duke  stopped  speaking,  a  murmur  of 
approval  ran  through  the  audience  —  though  the 
Italians  had  no  part  in  it.  The  murmur  grew 
clamorous  and  soon  a  mighty  shout  filled  the  vaulted 
roof : — 

"Long  life  to  the  noble  Count  of  Hapsburg! 
Burgundy  and  Styria  forever  !  " 

To  me,  the  words  seemed  delightfully  prophetic. 
Soon  afterward  the  audience  was  dismissed,  and  Max 
and  I  had  the  great  honor  of  being  asked  to  join  the 
duke's  council.  A  council  to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 
was  indeed  a  veritable  fifth  wheel.  He  made  his  own 
plans  and,  right  or  wrong,  clung  to  them.  He  would, 
on  rare  occasions,  listen  to  Hymbercourt,  —  a  man  of 
few  words,  who  gave  advice  as  if  he  were  lending 
a  crown,  —  but  the  suggestions  of  others  antagonized 
him. 

The  question  before  the  council  this  morning  was : 
Should  the  duke's  army  carry  provisions,  or  should 
it  take  them  from  the  countries  through  which  it 
was  to  pass  ?  Charles  favored  the  latter  course,  and 
it  was  agreed  upon.  The  people  of  non-belligerent 
states  should  be  paid  for  the  provisions  that  were 


378  YOLANDA 

taken ;  that  is,  theoretically  they  should  be  paid. 
The  Swiss  should  furnish  provision,  gratis,  and  that 
doubtless  would  be  terribly  practical. 

On  each  of  the  three  evenings  intervening  between 
the  day  of  this  council  and  the  departure  of  the  army, 
we  saw  Yolanda  at  Castleman's.  She  was  always 
waiting  when  we  arrived.  She  had  changed  in  many 
respects,  but  especially  in  her  attitude  regarding  Max. 
She  was  kind  and  gentle,  but  shy.  Having  dropped 
her  familiar  manner,  she  did  not  go  near  him,  but  sat 
at  a  distance,  holding  Twonette's  hand,  and  silently 
but  constantly  watching  him,  as  if  she  were  awaiting 
something.  Her  eyes,  at  times,  seemed  to  be  half- 
indignant  interrogation  points.  At  other  times  I  could 
see  in  them  doubt,  waiting,  and  hope  —  hope  almost 
tired  with  yearning. 

It  was  no  small  love  that  she  wanted  from  Max. 
She  had  hoped  —  perhaps  I  should  say  she  had  longed 
with  little  hope  —  that  he  would,  for  the  sake  of  the 
burgher  girl,  Yolanda,  be  willing  to  turn  his  back  on 
his  family  and  his  land.  But  now  he  was  leaving, 
and  her  dream  was  about  to  close,  since  Max  would 
probably  never  come  back  to  her. 

Not  the  least  painful  of  Yolanda's  emotions  was 
the  knowledge  that  she  could  insure  Max's  return  by 
telling  him  that  she  was  the  Princess  of  Burgundy. 
But  she  did  not  want  this  man  whom  she  loved  so 
dearly,  and  who,  she  knew,  loved  her,  if  she  must 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PRINCESS?  379 

win  him  as  princess.  She  was  strangely  impelled  to 
reject  a  reprieve  from  a  life  of  wretchedness,  unless 
it  came  through  the  high  court  of  love. 

Max,  in  speaking  to  me  about  his  return,  had 
wavered  many  times.  One  day  he  would  return; 
the  next,  he  would  swallow  the  bitter  draught  fate 
had  in  store  for  him.  He  was  a  great,  honest  soul, 
and  to  such  the  call  of  duty  is  compelling. 

On  the  evening  before  our  departure  we  went  to 
sup  with  Castleman.  On  our  way  down  to  the  House 
under  the  Wall,  Max  said  :  — 

"  Karl,  my  duty  is  clear.  I  must  not  return  to 
Peronne.  If  I  do,  I  fear  I  shall  never  leave  it." 

I  did  not  answer ;  but  I  had  resolved  that  he 
should  return,  and  I  intended  that  my  resolution 
should  become  a  fact.  Yolanda  was  not  present  at 
supper,  but  she  appeared  soon  after  we  had  risen. 
We  sat  under  the  dim  light  of  a  lamp  in  the  long 
room.  Yolanda  was  on  the  cushioned  bench  in  the 
shadow  of  the  great  chimney,  silently  clasping  Two- 
nette's  hand.  Twonette,  of  course,  was  silent  and 
serene.  Castleman  and  I  talked  disjointedly,  and 
Max  sat  motionless,  gazing  through  the  window  into 
the  night.  After  greeting  us,  Yolanda  spoke  not  a 
word ;  but  ever  in  the  deep  shadow  I  could  see  the 
glow  of  her  eyes  looking  toward  Max.  That  his 
heart  was  filled  with  a  great  struggle,  I  knew,  and 
I  believed  that  Yolanda  also  knew. 


380  YOLANDA 

We  had  many  preparations  to  make  before  our 
departure  next  morning  at  dawn,  so  after  an  hour 
Max  and  I  rose  to  leave.  Twonette,  leaving  Yolanda, 
came  to  us,  and  the  Castlemans  all  gave  us  a  hearty 
God-speed.  Yolanda  sat  wordless  in  the  shadow.  I 
went  to  her  and  gave  her  my  hand. 

"  Farewell,  Fraulein,"  I  said. 

Max  followed  me  closely,  and  I  stepped  aside  to 
make  way  for  him.  The  girl  rose  and  stood  irreso 
lute  before  him.  I  went  to  the  Castlemans,  who 
were  standing  at  a  distance. 

"  Fraulein  - —  "  said  Max.  But  she  interrupted  him, 
extending  her  hands,  which  he  clasped. 

"  Have  you  no  word  for  me,  Sir  Max  ?  "  she  asked 
pathetically,  tears  springing  to  her  eyes.  "  Are  you 
coming  back  to  me  ?  Have  you  the  right  to  come 
into  my  life  as  you  have  done,  and  to  leave  me  ? 
Does  God  impose  but  one  duty  on  you  —  that  of  your 
birth?" 

"  Ah,  Fraulein,"  answered  Max,  huskily,  "  you  know 
—  you  know  what  I  suffer." 

"  I  surely  do  know,"  she  responded,  "  else  I  would 
not  speak  so  plainly.  But  answer  me,  Sir  Max. 
Answer  my  question.  It  is  my  right  to  know  upon 
what  I  may  depend.  Will  you  come  back  to  me  ?  " 

The  imperious  will  of  the  princess  had  come  to  the 
rescue  of  Yolanda,  the  burgher  girl. 

Max  paused  before  speaking,  then  grasped  her  hands 
fiercely  and  answered  :  — 


YOLANDA  OR  THE  PRINCESS?  381 

"  Before  God,  Fraulein,  I  will  come  back  to  you,  if 
I  live." 

Yolanda  sank  upon  the  cushioned  bench,  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands,  and  the  pent-up  storm  of 
sobs  and  tears  broke  forth  as  Max  and  I  passed  out 
the  door. 

Yolanda  had  won. 


T 


CHAPTER   XIX 

MAX    GOES    TO    WAR 

HE  next  morning  at  dawn  our  army  marched. 
Although  Duke  Charles  would  not  encumber 
himself  with  provisions  for  his  men,  he  carried  a 
vast  train  of  carts  filled  with  plate,  silk  tents,  rich 
rugs,  and  precious  jewels ;  for,  with  all  his  bravery, 
this  duke's  ruling  passion  was  the  love  of  display 
in  the  presence  of  foreigners. 

I  shall  not  give  the  story  of  this  disastrous  war  in 
detail  ;  that  lies  in  the  province  of  history,  and  my 
story  relates  only  to  Max  and  Yolanda,  and  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  were  affected  by  the  results  of 
the  war. 

We  marched  with  forty  thousand  men,  and  laid 
siege  to  the  city  of  Granson,  in  the  district  of  Vaud. 
The  Swiss  sent  ambassadors  under  a  flag  of  truce, 
begging  Charles  to  spare  them,  and  saying,  according 
to  my  friend  Comines,  that  "  there  were  among  them 
no  good  prisoners  to  make,  and  that  the  spurs  and 
horses'  bits  of  the  duke's  army  were  worth  more 
money  than  all  the  people  of  Switzerland  could  pay 
in  ransoms,  even  if  they  were  taken."  Charles  re 
jected  all  overtures,  and  on  the  third  of  March  the 

382 


MAX   GOES   TO   WAR  383 

brave  little  Swiss  army  sallied  against  us,  «  heralding 
their  advances  by  the  lowings  of  the  Bull  of  Uri  and 
the  Cow  of  Unterwalden,  two  enormous  instruments 
which  had  been  given  to  their  ancestors  by  Charle 
magne." 

God  was  against  Charles  of  Burgundy,  and  his 
army  was  utterly  routed  by  one  of  less  than  a  fourth 
its  size.  I  was  with  Charles  after  the  battle,  and 
his  humiliation  was  more  pitiful  than  his  bursts  of 
ungovernable  wrath  were  disgusting.  The  king  of 
France,  hoping  for  this  disaster,  was  near  by  at 
Lyons. 

A  cruel  man  is  always  despicable  in  misfortune. 
Charles  at  once  sent  to  King  Louis  a  conciliatory, 
fawning  letter,  recanting  all  that  he  had  said  in  his 
last  missive  from  Peronne,  and  expressing  the  hope 
that  His  Majesty  would  adhere  to  the  treaty  and 
would  consent  to  the  marriage  of  Princess  Mary  and 
the  Dauphin  at  once.  In  this  letter  Yolanda  had 
no  opportunity  to  insert  a  disturbing  "t."  Louis 
answered  graciously,  saying  that  the  treaty  should  be 
observed,  and  that  the  marriage  should  take  place 
immediately  upon  the  duke's  return  to  Burgundy. 

«  We  have  already  forwarded  instructions  to  Paris," 
wrote  King  Louis,  "  directing  that  preparations  be 
made  at  once  for  the  celebration  of  this  most  desired 
union  at  the  holy  church  of  St.  Denis.  We  wondered 
much  at  Your  Grace's  first  missive,  in  which  you  so 


384  YOLANDA 

peremptorily  desired  us  not  to  move  in  this  matter 
till  your  return ;  and  we  wondered  more  at  Your 
Lordship's  ungracious  reply  to  our  answer  in  which 
we  consented  to  the  delay  Your  Grace  had  asked." 

Well  might  King  Louis  wonder.  Charles  also 
wondered,  and  cursed  the  stupidity  of  the  Bishop  of 
Cambrai,  who  had  so  "  encumbered  his  letter  with 
senseless  courtesy  as  to  distort  its  meaning. " 

Charles  despatched  letters  to  Peronne  and  Ghent, 
ordering  immediate  preparations  for  the  marriage. 
As  usual,  poor  Mary  was  not  considered  of  sufficient 
importance  to  receive  notice  of  the  event  that  con 
cerned  her  so  vitally.  Others  wrould  prepare  her,  as 
one  might  fatten  a  lamb  for  slaughter.  The  lamb 
need  not  be  consulted  or  even  informed ;  the  day  of 
its  fate  would  be  sufficient  for  it.  I  was  in  despair. 
Max,  in  his  ignorance,  was  indifferent. 

After  a  short  delay,  the  duke  gathered  his  wrath 
and  his  army  and  laid  siege  to  the  town  of  Morat,  an 
nouncing  his  intention  to  give  no  quarter,  but  to  kill 
all,  old  and  young,  men,  women,  and  children.  The 
Swiss  were  prepared  for  us.  "  The  energy  of  pride 
was  going  to  be  pitted  against  the  energy  of  patriot 
ism."  Again  disaster  fell  upon  Charles.  Thousands 
of  his  army  were  slain,  and  thousands  fled  in  hopeless 
rout.  His  soldiers  had  never  wanted  to  fight,  and 
one  man  defending  his  hearth  is  stronger  than  half  a 
score  attacking  it. 


MAX  GOES   TO   WAR  385 

The  loss  of  this  battle  drove  Charles  back  to  Bur 
gundy.  With  a  few  of  his  train,  including  Max  and 
myself,  he  retired  to  the  Castle  of  La  Riviera.  Here 
he  learned  that  Rene,  Duke  of  Lorraine,  had  mustered 
his  forces  and  had  laid  siege  to  Nancy,  which  city 
Charles  had  taken  from  Duke  Rene,  some  years  before, 
and  had  garrisoned  with  Burgundians  and  English. 
Upon  hearing  this  unwelcome  news,  Charles  began  the 
arduous  task  of  collecting  another  army.  He  was 
compelled  to  leave  the  neighborhood  of  Switzerland 
and  fly  to  the  rescue  of  Nancy. 

The  first  of  January  found  us  before  Nancy,  but 
our  arrival  was  three  days  too  late.  The  city  had 
capitulated  to  Duke  Rene.  On  the  fifth  of  January 
a  battle  was  fought  before  Nancy,  but  Fortune  had 
turned  her  back  for  all  and  all  on  this  cruel  Duke  of 
Burgundy  and  Count  of  Charolois.  The  disasters  at 
Granson  and  Morat  were  repeated.  At  nightfall 
Charles  could  not  be  found.  I  supposed  that  he 
had  escaped,  but  the  next  morning  his  body  was 
found  by  a  washerwoman,  frozen  in  the  ice  of  a 
pond.  He  had  been  killed  through  the  machi 
nations  of  Campo-Basso.  Duke  Rene  magnani 
mously  gave  Charles  regal  burial,  and  dismissed  his 
followers  without  ransom.  You  may  be  sure  I  was 
eager  to  return  to  Peronne. 

Fortune,  in  turning  her  back  upon  Charles,  had 
turned  her  smiling  face  toward  Max.  Her  lady. 
2c 


386  YOLANDA 

ship's  smiles  were  too  precious  to  be  wasted,  so  we 
made  post-haste  for  Peronne,  I  spurred  by  one 
motive,  Mary  of  Burgundy,  Max  by  another  — 
Yolanda.  His  heart  had  grieved  for  her  in  castle, 
in  camp,  and  in  din  of  battle.  He  had,  unknown  to 
me,  formed  a  great  and  noble  resolution ;  and  there 
was  no  horse  swift  enough  to  keep  pace  with  his 
desire  when  we  started  for  Peronne. 

I  was  the  first  to  announce  the  duke's  death.  The 
dark  news  was  given  by  me  to  the  duchess  and  the 
princess  in  Margaret's  parlor.  These  poor  women 
tried  to  grieve,  but  they  were  not  hypocrites,  and 
they  could  not  weep.  Each  had  received  at  Charles's 
hands  only  ill-usage  and  cruelty,  and  in  their  hearts 
they  must  have  felt  relief  at  his  death. 

"  It  was  sure  to  come,"  said  Margaret.  "  The  duke's 
bravery  led  him  always  into  danger.  It  is  God's 
will,  and  it  must  be  right." 

The  princess  walked  to  the  window,  and  said 
nothing,  until  I  was  about  to  leave  ;  then  she  turned 
to  me  nervously  and  asked  :  — 

«  Did  —  did  Sir  Max  come  with  you  ?  " 

I  looked  at  her  in  surprise,  and  glanced  inquiringly 
toward  the  duchess. 

"  My  mother  knows  all,  Sir  Karl,"  said  the  princess, 
reassuringly.  "  There  have  been  many  things  which  I 
could  not  have  done  without  her  help.  I  have  made 
many  rapid  changes,  Sir  Karl,  from  a  princess  to  a 


MAX  GOES  TO   WAR  387 

burgher  girl,  and  back  again,  and  I  should  have  failed 
without  my  mother's  help.  I  surely  mystified  you 
often  before  you  knew  of  the  stairway  in  the  wall. 
Indeed,  I  have  often  hurried  breathless  to  Uncle  Cas- 
tleman's  house  to  deceive  you.  Mother  invented  a 
burgher  girl's  costume  that  I  used  to  wear  as  an  under- 
bodice  and  petticoat,  so,  you  see,  I  have  been  visiting 
you  in  my  petticoats.  I  will  show  you  some  fine 
day  —  perhaps.  I  have  but  to  unfasten  a  half-score 
of  hooks,  and  off  drops  the  princess  —  I  am  Yolanda  ! 
I  throw  a  skirt  over  my  head,  fasten  the  hooks  of  a 
bodice,  don  my  head-dress,  and  behold !  the  princess 
once  more.  Only  a  moment  intervenes  between 
happiness  and  wretchedness.  But  tell  me,  Sir  Karl, 
have  you  ever  told  Sir  Max  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  Never,  Your  Highness  —  " 

"Yolanda,"  she  interrupted,  correcting  me  smilingly. 

"Never,  Yolanda,"  I  responded.  "He  does  not 
even  suspect  that  you  are  the  princess.  I  shall  be 
true  to  you.  You  know  what  you  are  doing." 

"  Indeed  I  do,  Sir  Karl,"  she  replied.  «  I  shall  win 
or  lose  now  in  a  short  time  and  in  short  skirts.  If 
Max  will  wed  me  as  Yolanda,  I  shall  be  the  happiest 
girl  on  earth.  If  not,  I  shall  be  the  most  wretched. 
If  he  learns  that  I  am  the  princess,  and  if  I  must  offer 
him  the  additional  inducement  of  my  estates  and  my 
domains  to  bring  him  to  me,  I  shall  not  see  him 
again,  Sir  Karl,  if  I  die  of  grief  for  it." 


388  YOLAKDA 

I  knew  well  what  she  meant,  but  I  did  not  believe 
that  she  would  be  able  to  hold  to  her  resolution  if 
she  were  put  to  the  test.  I  was,  however,  mistaken. 
With  all  my  knowledge  of  the  girl  I  did  not  know 
her  strength. 

We  reached  Peronne  during  the  afternoon  and,  of 
course,  went  early  the  same  evening  to  Castleman's. 

We  were  greeted  heartily  by  the  good  burgher,  his 
wife,  and  his  daughter.  Twonette  courtesied  to  Max, 
but  when  she  came  to  me,  this  serene  young  goddess 
of  pink  and  white  offered  me  her  cheek  to  kiss.  I,  who 
had  passed  my  quasi-priestly  life  without  once  enjoy 
ing  such  a  luxury,  touched  the  velvet  cheek  with  my 
lips  and  actually  felt  a  thrill  of  delight.  Life  among 
the  burghers  really  was  delicious.  I  tell  you  this  as 
a  marked  illustration  of  the  fact  that  a  man  never 
grows  too  old  to  be  at  times  a  fool.  Twonette 
slipped  from  the  room,  and  within  fifteen  minutes 
returned.  She  went  directly  to  Max  and  said :  — 

"  Some  one  is  waiting  for  you  in  the  oak  room 
above." 

She  pointed  the  way,  and  Max  climbed  the  stairs 
two  steps  at  a  time.  I  thought  from  his  eagerness 
he  would  clear  the  entire  flight  at  one  bound. 
To  his  knock  a  soft  voice  bade  him  enter.  The 
owner  of  the  voice  was  sitting  demurely  at  the  far 
thest  end  of  the  room  on  a  cushioned  bench.  Her  back 
rested  against  the  moving  panel  that  led  to  the  stair- 


MAX   GOES  TO  WAR  389 

way  in  the  wall.  She  did  not  move  when  Max  en 
tered.  She  had  done  all  the  moving  she  intended  to 
do,  and  Max  must  now  act  for  himself.  He  did. 
He  ran  down  the  long  room  to  her,  crying:  — 

"  Yolanda  !     Yolanda  !  " 

She  rose  to  greet  him,  and  he,  taking  her  in  his 
arms,  covered  her  face  with  kisses.  The  unconscious 
violence  of  his  great  strength  bruised  and  hurt  her, 
but  she  gloried  in  the  pain,  and  was  passive  as  a  babe 
in  his  arms.  When  they  were  seated  and  half  calm, 
she  clutched  one  of  his  great  fingers  and  said :  — 

"  You  kept  your  word,  Little  Max.  You  came  back 
to  me." 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  I  would  come  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Ah,  indeed,  I  knew  — you  are  not  one  that  makes 
a  promise  to  break  it.  Sometimes  it  is  difficult  to 
induce  such  a  man  to  give  his  word,  and  I  found  it 
so,  but  once  given  it  is  worth  having — worth  having, 
Little  Max." 

She  smiled  up  into  his  face  while  she  spoke,  as  if 
to  say,  "  You  gave  me  a  deal  of  trouble,  but  at  last 
I  have  captured  you." 

"  Did  you  so  greatly  desire  the  promise,  Yolanda  ?  " 
asked  Max,  solely  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  her 
answer. 

« Yes,"  she  answered  softly,  hanging  her  head, 
"  more  than  any  man  can  know.  It  must  be  an 
intense  longing  that  wTill  drive  a  modest  girl  to 


390  YOLANDA 

boldness,  such  as  I  have  shown  ever  since  the  day  I 
first  met  you  at  dear  old  Basel.  It  almost  broke  my 
heart  when  father  —  fatherland  —  when  Burgundy 
made  war  on  Switzerland."  The  word  « land  "  was 
a  lucky  thought,  and  came  to  the  girl  just  in  the  nick 
of  time. 

Max  was  too  much  interested  in  the  girl  to  pay 
close  attention  to  any  slips  she  might  make  about 
the  war  with  Switzerland.  It  is  true  he  was  now  a 
soldier,  and  war  was  all  right  in  its  place ;  but  there 
are  things  in  life  compared  with  which  the  wars  of 
nations  are  trivial  affairs.  All  subjects  save  one  were 
unwelcome  to  him. 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  ask  a  promise  from  you, 
Fraulein,"  said  Max,  loosening  his  hand  from  her 
grasp  and  placing  his  arm  about  her  waist.  She 
offered  no  objections  to  the  new  situation,  but  blushed 
and  looked  down  demurely  to  her  folded  hands. 

"  It  will,  I  fear,  be  very  easy  for  you,  Max,  to 
induce  me  to  promise  anything  you  wish.  It  will  be 
all  too  easy,  for  I  am  not  strong,  as  you  are."  She 
glanced  into  his  face,  but  her  eyes  fell  quickly  to  her 
hands. 

"  I  shall  soon  leave  you  again,  Fraulein,  and  what 
I  wish  is  of  such  moment  that  I  —  I  almost  fear  to 
ask." 

"Yes,  Max,"  she  murmured,  gently  reaching  across 
his  knee,  and  placing  her  hand  in  his  by  way  of 
encouragement. 


MAX  GOES  TO   WAR  391 

"  It  is  this,  Fraulein.  I  am  going  back  to  Styria, 
and  I  want  to  carry  with  me  your  promise  to  be  my 
wife,"  said  Max,  softly. 

The  girl's  head  fell  over  against  his  shoulder,  and 
she  clasped  his  free  hand  between  both  of  hers. 

"  I  will  ask  my  father's  consent,"  said  Max.  "  I 
will  tell  him  of  you  and  of  my  great  love,  which  is 
so  great,  Fraulein,  that  all  the  world  is  nothing  be 
side  it  and  beside  you,  and  he  will  grant  my  request." 

"  But  if  he  doesn't,  Max  ?  "  asked  the  face  hidden 
upon  his  breast. 

"  If  he  does  not,  Fraulein,  I  will  forego  my 
country  and  my  estates.  I  will  come  back  to  you 
and  will  work  in  the  fields,  if  need  be,  to  make  you 
as  happy  as  you  will  make  me." 

"  There  will  be  no  need  for  that,  Max,"  she  an 
swered,  tears  of  happiness  slowly  trickling  down  her 
cheeks,  "  for  I  am  rich." 

"  That  I  am  sorry  to  hear,"  he  responded. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  know  who  I  am  before  you 
wed  me  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  long  pause.  She  had 
almost  made  up  her  mind  to  tell  him. 

"  That  you  may  tell  me  when  you  are  my  wife," 
said  Max.  "  I  thought  you  were  the  Princess  Mary, 
but  I  am  almost  glad  that  you  are  not.  I  soon  knew 
that  I  was  wrong,  for  I  knew  that  you  would  not 
deceive  me." 

The  girl  winced  and  concluded  to  postpone  telling 


392  YOLANDA 

her  momentous  secret.  She  was  now  afraid  to  do  so. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  in  her  heart  a  healthy 
little  touch  of  womanly  cowardice  on  small  occasions. 
After  a  long,  delicious  pause,  Max  said  :  — 

"  Have  I  your  promise,  Fraulein  ?  " 

"  Y-e-s,"  she  answered  hesitatingly,  « I  will  be  your 
wife  if  —  if  I  can,  and  if  you  will  take  me  when  you 
learn  who  I  am.  There  is  no  taint  of  disgrace  about 
me,  Max,"  she  added  quickly,  in  response  to  the  look 
of  surprise  on  his  face.  "  But  I  am  not  worthy  of 
you,  and  I  fear  that  if  your  father  but  knew  my  un- 
worthiness,  he  would  refuse  his  consent  to  our  mar 
riage.  You  must  not  tell  him  of  my  boldness.  I 
will  tell  you  all  about  myself  before  you  leave  for 
Styria,  and  then,  if  you  do  not  want  me,  you  may 
leave  me  to  —  to  die." 

"  I  shall  want  you,  Yolanda.  I  shall  want  you. 
Have  no  doubt  of  that,"  he  answered. 

"  With  the  assurance  that  there  is  no  stain  or  taint 
upon  me  or  my  family,  do  you  give  me  your  word, 
Max,  that  you  will  want  me  and  will  take  me, 
whoever  I  am,  and  will  not  by  word  or  gesture 
show  me  that  you  are  angry  or  that  you  regret  your 
promise?" 

"  I  gladly  give  you  that  promise,"  answered  Max. 

"  Did  you  ever  tell  a  lie,  Little  Max  ?  "  she  asked 
banteringly,  "  or  did  you  ever  deliberately  break  a 
promise  ?  " 


MAX    GOES  TO  WAR  393 

"  Did  I  ever  steal  or  commit  wilful  murder  ? " 
asked  Max,  withdrawing  his  arm. 

"  No,  Max ;  now  put  it  back  again,"  she  said. 

After  a  long  pause  she  continued  :  — 

« I  have  lied." 

Max  laughed  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"  Your  lies  will  harm  no  one,"  he  said  joyously. 

"No,"  she  responded,  "I  only  lie  that  good  may 
come  of  it." 

Then  silence  fell  upon  the  world  —  their  world. 
Was  not  that  hour  with  Max  worth  all  the  pains  that 
Yolanda  had  taken  to  deceive  him  ? 

Yolanda  and  Max  came  down  to  the  long  room, 
and  she,  too,  gave  me  her  cheek  to  kiss. 

Twonette  had  prepared  a  great  tankard  of  wine 
and  honey,  with  pepper  and  allspice  to  suit  Yolanda's 
taste,  and  we  all  sat  before  the  great  blazing  yule  fire, 
as  joyful  and  content  as  any  six  people  in  Christen 
dom.  Twonette  and  Yolanda  together  occupied  one 
large  chair ;  Twonette  serenely  allowing  herself  to 
be  caressed  by  Yolanda,  who  was  in  a  state  of  mind 
that  compelled  her  to  caress  some  one.  Gentle  Frau 
Kate  was  sleeping  in  a  great  easy  chair  near  the 
chimney-corner.  Max  sat  at  one  side  of  the  table,  — 
the  side  nearest  Yolanda,  —  while  Castleman  and  I 
sat  by  each  other  within  easy  reach  of  the  wine.  I 
knew  without  the  telling,  all  that  had  occurred  up 
stairs,  and  the  same  light  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon 


394  YOLANDA 

the  Castlemans.  Good  old  George  was  in  high 
spirits,  and  I  could  see  in  his  eye  that  he  intended 
to  get  drunk  and,  if  possible,  to  bring  me,  also,  to 
that  happy  condition.  After  many  goblets  of  wine, 
he  remarked :  — 

"  The  king  of  France  will  probably  be  upon  us 
within  a  fortnight  after  he  hears  the  sad  news  from 
Nancy." 

Yolanda  immediately  sat  upright  in  her  chair, 
abandoning  Twonette's  soft  hand  and  softer  cheek. 

"  Why  do  you  believe  so,  uncle  ? "  she  asked 
nervously. 

"  Because  he  has  waited  all  his  life  for  this  untoward 
event  to  happen." 

"Preparations  should  be  made  to  receive  him," 
said  Yolanda. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  replied  Castleman,  "  but  Burgundy's 
army  is  scattered  to  the  four  winds.  It  has  given  its 
blood  for  causes  in  which  its  heart  was  not.  We 
lack  the  strong  arm  of  the  duke,  to  force  men  to  bat 
tle  against  their  will.  King  Louis  must  be  fought  by 
policy,  not  by  armies ;  and  Hymbercourt  is  absent." 

"  Do  you  know  aught  of  him,  Sir  Karl  ? "  asked 
Yolanda. 

"I  do  not,  Fraulein,"  I  answered,  "save  that  he 
was  alive  and  well  when  we  left  Nancy." 

"  That,  at  least,  is  good  news,"  she  replied,  "  and  I 
make  sure  he  will  soon  come  to  Burgundy's  help." 


MAX  GOES  TO  WAK  395 

"  I  am  sure  he  is  now  on  his  way,"  I  answered. 

"  What  can  Burgundy  do  ?  "  she  asked,  turning  to 
Castleman  and  me.  "  You  will  each  advise  —  advise 
the  princess,  I  hope." 

"  If  she  wishes  my  poor  advice,"  I  responded,  "  she 
has  but  to  ask  it." 

"And  mine,"  said  Castleman,  tipping  his  goblet 
over  his  nose. 

"  If  we  are  to  have  clear  heads  to-morrow,"  I  sug 
gested,  « we  must  drink  no  more  wine  to-night. 
The  counsel  of  wine  is  the  advice  of  the  devil." 

"  Right  you  are,  Sir  Karl.  Only  one  more  goblet. 
Here's  to  the  health  of  the  bride  to  be,"  said  Castle 
man. 

Yolanda  leaned  back  in  her  chair  beside  Twonette, 
and  her  face  wore  a  curious  combination  of  smile  and 
pout. 

On  the  way  to  the  inn,  Max,  who  was  of  course 
very  happy,  told  me  what  had  happened  in  the  oak 
room  and  added  :  — 

« I  look  to  you,  Karl,  to  help  me  with  father." 

«  That  I  will  certainly  do,"  I  answered.  I  could 
not  resist  saying :  "  We  came  to  Burgundy  with  the 
hope  of  winning  the  princess.  Fortune  has  opened  a 
door  for  you  by  the  death  of  her  father.  Don't  you 
wish  to  try?  " 

"  No,"  said  Max,  turning  on  me.  A  moment  later 
he  added,  "If  Yolanda  were  but  the  princess,  as  I 


396  YOLANDA 

once  believed  she  was,  what  a  romance  our  journey 
to  Burgundy  would  make  !  " 

My  spirits  were  somewhat  dampened  by  Castle- 
man's  words  concerning  the  French  king.  Surely 
they  were  true,  since  King  Louis  was  the  last  man  in 
Europe  to  forego  the  opportunity  presented  by  the 
death  of  Charles.  Should  the  Princess  Mary  lose 
Burgundy  just  at  the  time  when  Max  had  won  her, 
my  disappointment  wrould  indeed  be  great,  and  Max 
might  truly  need  my  help  with  his  father. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A    TKEATY    WITH   LOUIS   XI 

next  day  Castleman  and  I  were  called  to  the 
-A-  castle,  and  talked  over  the  situation  with  the 
duchess  and  the  Princess  Mary.  In  the  midst  of  our 
council,  in  walked  Hymbercourt  and  Hugonet.  They 
were  devoted  friends  of  Mary. 

Our  first  move  was  to  send  spies  to  the  court  of 
France ;  so  two  trusted  men  started  at  once.  Paris 
was  but  thirty  leagues  distant,  and  the  men  could  reach 
it  in  fifteen  hours.  Half  a  day  there  should  enable 
them  to  learn  the  true  condition  of  affairs,  since  they 
carried  well-filled  purses  to  loosen  the  tongues  of 
Cardinal  Balau  and  Oliver  the  Barber.  The  bribery 
plan  was  Mary's,  and  it  worked  admirably. 

Within  fort}'-eight  hours  the  spies  returned,  and 
reported  that  King  Louis,  with  a  small  army,  was 
within  fifteen  leagues  of  Peronne.  He  had  quickly 
assembled  the  three  estates  at  Paris,  all  of  whom 
promised  the  king  their  aid.  In  the  language  of  the 
chancellor,  "  The  commons  offered  to  help  their  king 
with  their  bodies  and  their  wealth,  the  nobles  with 
their  advice,  and  the  clergy  with  their  prayers."  This 
appalling  news  set  Peronne  in  an  uproar. 

397 


398  YOLANDA 

Recruiting  officers  were  sent  out  in  all  directions, 
the  town  was  garrisoned,  and  fortifications  were  over 
hauled.  Mary  was  again  in  trouble,  and  the  momen 
tous  affairs  resting  on  her  young  shoulders  seemed  to 
have  put  Max  out  of  her  mind.  I  expected  her  to  call 
him  into  council  and  reveal  herself,  but  she  did  not. 

On  the  day  after  we  learned  of  King  Louis'  ap 
proach,  the  princess  called  Hymbercourt,  Hugonet, 
Castleman,  and  myself  to  her  closet  and  graciously 
asked  us  to  be  seated  about  a  small  table. 

"  I  have  formed  a  plan  that  I  wish  to  submit  to 
you,"  she  said.  "I'll  send  to  King  Louis  an  invi 
tation  to  visit  me  here  at  Peronne,  under  safeguard. 
When  he  conies,  I  intend  to  offer  to  restore  all  the 
cities  that  my  father  took  from  him,  if  he  will  release 
me  from  the  treaty  of  marriage,  and  will  swear  upon  the 
Cross  of  Victory  to  support  me  against  my  enemies, 
and  to  assist  me  in  subduing  Ghent,  now  in  rebellion. 
What  think  you  of  the  plan  ?  " 

"  Your  Highness  is  giving  King  Louis  nearly  half 
your  domain,"  suggested  Hymbercourt. 

"  True,"  answered  the  princess,  "  but  it  is  better 
to  give  half  than  to  lose  all.  Where  can  we  turn  for 
help  against  this  greedy  king?  When  Burgundy  is 
in  better  case,  we'll  take  them  all  from  him  again." 

"  Your  Highness  is  right,"  answered  Hymbercourt. 
"  But  what  assurance  have  you  that  King  Louis  will 
accept  your  terms  ?  " 


A  TREATY   WITH  LOUIS    XI  399 

"Little,  my  lord,  save  that  King  Louis  does  not 
know  our  weakness.  Oliver  has' by  this  time  told  him 
that  he  has  news  of  a  vast  army  collecting  within 
twenty  leagues  of  Peronne.  If  Louis  accepts  our  terms, 
Oliver  and  the  cardinal  are  each  to  receive  twenty 
thousand  crowns  out  of  our  treasury  at  Luxembourg. 
My  father  fought  King  Louis  with  blows ;  I'll  fight 
His  Majesty  with  his  own  weapon,  gold.  That  is  the 
lesson  my  father  should  have  learned." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  during  her  recital  and  looked 
down  at  her  in  wonder. 

"Yolanda  "  —  I  began,  but  corrected  myself — "Your 
Highness  needs  no  councillor.  I,  for  one,  deem  your 
plan  most  wise,  and  I  see  in  it  the  salvation  of 
Burgundy." 

The  other  councillors  agreed  with  me  most  heartily. 

"I  have  still  another  plan  which  I  hope  may  frighten 
King  Louis  into  accepting  our  terms.  During  the 
conference  which  I  hope  to  hold  with  His  Majesty,  I 
shall  receive  a  message  from  my  mother's  brother, 
King  Edward  of  England.  The  missive,  of  course, 
will  be  directed  to  my  father,  since  the  English  king 
cannot  yet  know  of  the  duke's  death.  The  messenger 
will  be  an  English  herald,  and  will  demand  immedi 
ate  audience,  and  —  and  —  however,  I'll  keep  the  re 
mainder  of  that  plan  to  myself." 

A  broad  smile  appeared  on  the  faces  of  all  present. 
Hugonet  gazed  at  the  princess  and  laughed  outright. 


400  YOLAKDA 

"  Why  did  not  your  father  take  you  into  his  coun 
cil  ?"  he  asked. 

«  I  should  have  been  no  help  to  him,"  she  responded. 
«  A  woman's  wits,  dear  Hugonet,  must  be  driven  by  a 
great  motive." 

"  But  you  would  have  had  the  motive,"  answered 
Hugonet. 

«  There  is  but  one  motive  for  a  woman,  my  lord," 
she  answered. 

Hugonet  unceremoniously  whistled  his  astonish 
ment,  and  Yolanda  blushed  as  she  said :  — 

"  You  shall  soon  know." 

Mary's  plan  for  an  interview  with  Louis  succeeded 
perfectly.  He  came  post-haste  under  safe  conduct  to 
Peronne. 

Whatever  may  be  said  against  Louis,  he  did  not 
know  personal  fear.  He  had  a  wholesome  dread  of 
sacrificing  the  lives  of  his  people,  and  preferred  to 
satisfy  his  greed  by  policy  rather  than  by  war.  Gold, 
rather  than  blood,  was  the  price  he  paid  for  his  vic 
tories.  Taken  all  in  all,  he  was  the  greatest  king  that 
France  ever  had  —  if  one  may  judge  a  king  by  the 
double  standard  of  what  he  accomplishes  and  what  it 
costs  his  people.  He  almost  doubled  the  territory  of 
France,  and  he  lost  fewer  men  in  battle  than  any  en 
terprising  monarch  of  whom  I  know. 

Within  forty-eight  hours  of  receiving  the  safe  con 
duct,  King  Louis  was  sitting  beside  Mary  on  the  dais 


A  TREATY  WITH  LOUIS  XI  401 

of  the  ducal  throne  in  the  great  hall.  She  was  heav 
ily  veiled,  being  in  mourning  for  her  father.  At  her 
left  stood  Hymbercourt,  Hugonet,  Max,  and  myself. 
At  the  king's  right  stood  Cardinal  Balau  and  Oliver 
the  Barber,  each  anticipating  a  rich  reward  in  case 
Louis  should  accept  Mary's  terms.  Back  of  them 
stood  a  score  of  the  king's  courtiers.  Many  questions 
of  state  were  discussed ;  and  then  Hymbercourt 
presented  Mary's  offer  to  King  Louis.  The  king 
hesitated.  After  a  long  pause  he  spoke,  looking 
straight  ahead,  at  nothing ;  as  was  his  custom. 

"  We  will  consult  with  our  friends  and  make  answer 
soon,"  he  said,  speaking  to  nobody. 

Louis  seemed  to  think  that  if  he  looked  at  no  one 
and  addressed  nobody,  when  he  spoke,  he  might  the 
more  easily  wriggle  out  of  his  obligations  later  on. 

Mary  had  caused  to  be  drawn  up  in  duplicate  a 
treaty  in  accordance  with  the  terms  that  she  had  out 
lined  at  our  little  council.  It  was  handed  to  Oliver 
when  the  king  rose  to  retire  to  a  private  room,  to  dis 
cuss  the  contents  with  his  councillors. 

At  the  moment  when  King  Louis  rose  to  his  feet,  a 
herald  was  announced  at  the  great  hall  door. 

«  A  message  from  His  Majesty,  King  Edward  of 
England,"  cried  the  Burgundian  herald.  Louis  re 
sumed  his  seat  as  though  his  feet  had  slipped  from 
under  him. 

« We  are  engaged,"  answered  Mary,  acting  well  a 

2D 


402  YOLANDA 

difficult  part.  "Let  the  herald  leave  his  packet,  or 
deliver  it  later." 

A  whispered  conversation  took  place  between  the 
Burgundian  herald  and  the  Englishman.  Then  spoke 
the  Burgundian  :  — 

"  Most  Gracious  Princess,  the  English  herald  has 
no  packet.  He  bears  a  verbal  message  to  your  late 
father,  and  insists  that  he  must  deliver  it  to  Your 
Highness  at  once." 

"  Must,  indeed  !  "  cried  Mary,  indignantly.  Then 
turning  to  the  king :  "  These  English  grow  arrogant, 
Your  Majesty.  What  has  the  herald  to  say  ?  Let 
him  come  forward.  We  have  no  secrets  from  our 

% 

most  gracious  godfather,  King  Louis." 

The  English  herald  approached  the  ducal  throne, 
but  did  not  speak. 

"Proceed,"  said  Mary,  irritably. 

"  With  all  deference,  Most  Gracious  Princess,"  said 
the  herald,  "  the  subject-matter  of  my  message  is  such 
that  it  should  be  communicated  privately,  or  at 
Your  Highness's  council-boafd." 

"  If  you  have  a  message  from  my  good  uncle,  King 
Edward,  deliver  it  here  and  now,"  said  the  princess. 

"As  you  will,  Most  Gracious  Princess,"  said  the 
herald.  "  King  Edward  has  amassed  a  mighty  army, 
which  is  now  awaiting  orders  to  sail  for  France ;  and 
His  Majesty  asks  permission  to  cross  the  territory  of 
Burgundy  on  his  way  to  Paris.  He  will  pay  to  Your 


A  TKEATY  WITH   LOUIS  XI  403 

Highness  such  compensation  as  may  be  agreed  upon 
when  His  Majesty  meets  you,  which  he  hopes  may  be 
within  a  month.  His  Majesty  begs  a  written  reply 
to  the  message  I  bear." 

Mary  paused  before  she  answered. 

"  Wait  without.  My  answer  depends  upon  the 
conclusions  of  His  Majesty,  the  King  of  France." 

The  herald  withdrew,  but  in  the  meantime  Louis 
had  descended  to  the  floor  and  was  busily  conning 
the  treaty  that  Mary  had  caused  to  be  written.  He 
was  whispering  with  Cardinal  Balau  and  Oliver,  and 
was  evidently  excited  by  the  news  he  had  just  heard 
from  England.  When  he  resumed  his  seat  beside 
Mary,  he  said:  — 

"  By  this  treaty,  which  is  simple  and  straight 
forward,  Your  Highness  cedes  to  me  certain  cities 
herein  named,  in  perpetuity ;  and  in  consideration 
thereof,  I  am  to  be  with  you  friend  of  friend  and  foe 
of  foe.  I  am  to  aid  you  in  subduing  your  rebellious 
subjects,  and  to  sustain  you  in  your  choice  of  a  hus 
band.  I  am  also  to  release  you  from  the  present 
contract  of  marriage  with  my  son,  the  Dauphin." 

"That  is  all,  Your  Majesty,"  said  the  princess. 
"  It  is  short  and  to  the  point." 

"  Indeed  it  is,  Your  Highness,  and  if  you  will  an 
swer  King  Edward  and  will  deny  him  the  privilege 
of  crossing  Burgundy,  I  will  sign  the  treaty,  and  will 
swear  upon  the  true  cross  to  keep  it  inviolate." 


404  YOLANDA 

Mary  could  hardly  conceal  her  exultation,  but  she 
answered  calmly :  — 

"  Will  Your  Majesty  sign  now  ?  " 

Louis  and  Mary  each  signed  the  treaty,  and  the 
piece  of  the  true  cross  upon  which  the  oath  was  to 
be  made  was  brought  before  them,  resting  on  a  velvet 
pillow.  Now  there  were  many  pieces  of  the  true 
cross,  of  which  Louis  possessed  two.  Upon  one  of 
these  he  held  the  oath  to  be  binding  and  inviolate ; 
it  was  known  as  the  Cross  of  Victory.  Upon  the 
other  his  oath  was  less  sacred,  and  the  sin  of  perjury 
was  venial. 

I  stood  near  the  throne,  arid,  suspecting  Louis  of 
fraud,  made  bold  to  inquire :  — 

"  Most  humbly  I  would  ask  Your  Majesty,  is  this 
the  Cross  of  Victory  ?  " 

The  king  examined  the  piece  of  wood  resting  on 
the  cushion  and  said  :  — 

"  By  Saint  Andrew,  My  Lord  Cardinal,  you  have 
committed  an  error.  You  have  brought  me  the 
wrong  piece." 

The  Cross  of  Victory  was  then  produced,  with 
many  apologies  and  excuses  for  the  mistake,  and  the 
oath  was  taken  while  Mary's  tiny  hand  rested  on 
the  relic  beside  King  Louis'  browned  and  wrinkled 
talon.  When  the  ceremony  was  finished,  the  king 
turned  to  Mary  and  said  :  — 

"  Whom  will  Your  Highness  select  for  a  husband  ?  " 


A  TREATY  WITH   LOUIS  XI  405 

"  My  father  sometime  had  treaty  with  Duke  Fred 
erick  of  Styria,  looking  to  my  marriage  with  his  son 
Maximilian,  and  I  shall  ratify  the  compact." 

Max  was  about  to  speak,  but  I  plucked  him  by 
the  sleeve. 

Now  I  shall  hasten  to  the  end.  The  king  took  his 
departure  within  an  hour,  carrying  with  him  his 
copy  of  the  treaty.  The  audience  was  dismissed,  and 
the  princess  left  the  great  hall  by  the  door  back  of  the 
throne,  having  first  directed  Hymbercourt,  Hugonet, 
Max,  and  myself  to  follow  within  five  minutes,  under 
conduct  of  a  page.  Castleman  excused  himself  and 
left  the  hall. 

The  page  soon  came  to  fetch  us,  and  we  were  taken 
to  Mary's  parlor,  adjoining  her  bedroom  in  Darius 
tower.  From,  the  bedroom,  as  you  know,  the  stair 
way  in  the  wall  descends  to  Castleman's  house.  In 
the  parlor  we  found  Mary,  the  Duchess  Margaret,  and 
several  ladies  in  waiting.  All  the  ladies,  including 
Mary,  were  heavily  veiled.  When  we  entered,  Mary 
addressed  Max :  — 

"Sir  Count,  you  doubtless  heard  my  announce 
ment  to  the  king  of  France.  It  was  my  father's 
desire  at  one  time  to  unite  Styria  and  Burgundy  by 
marriage.  I  myself  sent  you  a  letter  and  a  ring 
that  you  doubtless  still  possess.  Are  you  pleased 
with  my  offer  ?  " 


406  YOLANDA 

Max  fell  to  his  knee  before  the  princess :  — 

"  Your  Highness's  condescension  is  far  beyond  my 
deserts.  There  are  few  men  who  could  refuse  your 
offer,  but  I  am  pledged  to  another,  and  I  beg  Your 
Highness  —  " 

"  Enough,  enough,"  cried  the  princess,  indignantly. 
"  No  man  need  explain  his  reasons  for  refusing  the 
hand  of  Mary  of  Burgundy." 

Astonishment  appeared  on  all  faces  save  mine.  I 
thought  I  knew  the  purpose  of  Her  Highness.  Max 
rose  to  his  feet,  and  Mary  said :  — 

"  We'll  go  downstairs  now,  and,  if  you  wish,  Sir 
Count,  you  may  there  say  farewell."  She  whispered 
a  word  to  her  mother,  and  led  the  way  into  her 
bedroom.  The  duchess  indicated  that  Max  and  I 
were  to  follow.  We  did  so,  and  Margaret  came 
after  us. 

"  We'll  go  down  by  these  steps,"  said  the  princess, 
leading  us  to  the  open  panel.  "  The  way  is  dark,  arid 
you  must  use  care  in  descending,  Sir  Count,  but  this 
is  the  nearest  way  to  the  ground." 

Max  started  down  the  steps  and  Mary  followed 
close  at  his  heels.  I  followed  Mary,  and  Duchess 
Margaret  came  after  me. 

When  we  had  descended  twenty  steps,  the  upper 
panel  was  closed  by  some  one  in  the  bedroom,  and 
the  stairway  became  inky  dark.  Ten  steps  further, 
I  stumbled  and  almost  fell  over  a  soft  obstruction  on 


A  TREATY   WITH  LOUIS  XI  407 

the  stairs.  I  stooped  and  examined  it.  Fearing  that 
the  duchess  might  fall  when  she  reached  it,  I  took 
it  up.  It  was  a  lady's  head-dress  and  veil.  A  few 
steps  farther  I  picked  up  a  lady's  bodice  and  then 
a  skirt.  By  the  time  I  had  made  this  collection, 
Max  and  Mary  had  reached  the  moving  panel  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs.  I  heard  it  slide  back,  and  a  flood 
of  light  came  in  upon  us.  Yolanda,  in  burgher  girl's 
costume,  sprang  over  the  cushioned  seat  into  Castle- 
man's  pak  room.  Max  followed,  and  I,  with  an 
armful  of  woman's  gear,  helped  the  duchess  to  step 
to  the  cushion  and  thence  to  the  floor.  Max  stood 
for  a  moment  in  half-vexed  surprise,  but  Yolanda, 
two  yards  off,  laughed  merrily :  — 

"  You  promised,  Sir  Max,  that  you  would  show  no 
anger  when  you  learned  who  I  was,  and  you  said  you 
would  neither  lie,  steal,  nor  commit  murder." 

The  Castlemans  stood  near  by,  and  the  duchess 
and  I  joined  them,  forming  an  admiring  group.  Max 
did  not  reply.  He  held  out  his  arms  to  the  girl,  and 
she  ran  to  them.  So  closely  did  he  hold  her  that 
she  could  hardly  move.  She  did,  however,  succeed 
in  turning  her  face  toward  us,  and  said  poutingly :  — 

"  Why  don't  you  leave  the  room  ?  " 


Dorothy  Vernon  of  Haddon   Hall 

By  CHARLES  MAJOR 

Author  of  "  When  Knighthood  Was  in  Fl&oxr,"  etc. 

With  eight  full-page  illustrations  by  HOWARD  CHANDLER  CHRISTY 

Cloth  12mo  $1.50 


«  Dorothy  Vernon  is  an  Elizabethan  maid,  but  a  living,  loving,  lovable 
girl.  .  .  .  The  lover  of  accuracy  of  history  in  fiction  may  rest  contented  with 
the  story  ;  but  he  will  probably  care  little  for  that  once  he  has  been  caught 
by  the  spirit  and  freshness  of  the  romance." —  The  Mail  and  Express, 

"Dorothy  is  a  splendid  creation,  a  superb  creature  of  brains,  beauty, 
force,  capacity,  and  passion,  a  riot  of  energy,  love,  and  red  blood.  She  is  the 
fairest,  fiercest,  strongest,  tenderest  heroine  that  ever  woke  up  a  jaded  novel 
reader  and  made  him  realize  that  life  will  be  worth  living  so  long  as  the 
writers  of  fiction  create  her  like.  .  .  .  The  story  has  brains,  'go,'  virility, 
gumption,  and  originality."  —  The  Boston  Transcript. 

"  Dorothy  is  a  fascinating  character,  whose  womanly  whims  and  cunning 
ways  in  dealing  with  her  manly,  honest  lover  and  her  wrathful  father  are 
cleverly  portrayed.  The  interest  is  maintained  to  the  end.  Some  might  call 
Dorothy  a  vixen,  but  she  is  of  that  rare  and  ravishing  kind  who  have  tried 
(and  satisfied)  men's  souls  from  the  days  of  Mother  Eve  to  the  present  time." 

—  The  New  York  Herald. 

"  A  romance  of  much  delicacy,  variety,  strength,  and  grace,  in  which  are 
revealed  the  history  of  four  lovers  who  by  their  purely  human  attributes  are 
distinct  types." — Evening  Journal  News,  Evansville. 

"As  a  study  of  woman,  the  incomprehensible,  yet  thoroughly  lovable, 
Dorothy  Vernon  clearly  leads  all  recent  attempts  in  fiction.  Dorothy  is  a 
wonderful  creature."  —  Columbus  Evening  Dispatch. 

"Dorothy  is  a  feminine  whirlwind,  very  attractive  to  her  audience  if 
somewhat  disconcerting  to  her  victims,  and  the  story,  even  in  these  days  when 
romance  has  become  a  drug,  makes  good  reading."  —  New  York  Life. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

64-66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK 


The  Bears  of  Blue  River 

By  CHARLES   MAJOR 

Author  of  "  Dorothy  Vernon  of  Haddon  Hall,"  ttc. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS   BT   A.    B.    FROST    AND    OTHERS 

Cloth       lamo       $1.50 


"The  book  is  thoroughly  healthy,  and  it  is  infused  through  and 
through  with  the  breath  of  the  forests.  It  is  a  delightful  book  to  read." 
—  Charleston  Sun-News. 

"  The  book  is  especially  adapted  to  boys,  but  the  well-rounded  style 
of  the  author,  combined  with  a  little  natural  history,  makes  it  at  once 
interesting  and  instructive  to  young  and  old  alike."  —  Plymouth  Weekly 

"This  is  not  a  mere  'boy's  book  ';  it  is  a  work  of  art,  appealing  to 
the  most  cultured  reader."  —  Christian  World. 

"  Though  the  story  may  have  been  written  for  boys,  it  is  even  better 
fun  for  older  people  and  sportsmen,  as  a  well-written,  spirited  book  of 
so  strenuous  a  life."  —  Literary  World. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

64-66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YOEK 


BY 

CHARLES   MAJOR 

Author  of  "Dorothy  Vernon  of  Haddon  Hall,"  «  When  Knight 
hood  was  in  Flower,"  etc. 

With  illustrations  by  CLYDE  O.  DE  LAND 


Cloth  J2mo  $1.50 


This  work  is  a  novel  full  of  charm  and  action,  picturing  the  life  and 
love  of  the  fascinating,  indomitably  adventurous  men  and  women,  boys 
and  girls,  who  developed  Indiana  during  the  thirties.  It  is  the  strong 
est,  sunniest  book  Mr.  Major  has  written,  and  will  delight  older  lovers 
of  vigorous,  breezy,  outdoor  life  as  much  as  his  "  The  Bears  of  Blue 
River"  pleases  his  boy  readers.  It  is  written  with  much  of  the  strong, 
human  appeal  which  made  his  first  book  famous,  but  with  that  especial, 
intimate  touch  only  possible  when  an  author's  theme  is  as.  close  to  his 
heart  as  the  early  life  of  his  native  state  is  to  Mr.  Major's. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

64-66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    000684309    8 


